Page 1, This is only loosly considered poetry. I tryed to convey a sense of being zoned ou, lidtening to music for example.

The gift of sound

Electric shocks coarse, hinges creek. Hollow sounds escape the tin case as every ear draws near - you notice the sudden amount of zaps as lights go off, one fallowing another but you pay no heed.

You're glued to your gift of sound.

Thwack, pang…they go on and

on, hinges squeal but you care not, you stare lopsided – head tilted from thine own ears weight. Your eyes grow dull as your mind becomes weak for ignorance isn't always bliss. 

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