Shut off that radio,

The stale re-packaged crap

violates my ears!

My brain slows to a crawl

I’m getting dumber.

Like an airborne virus

like a plague,

it kills……,


Where are the

writers, composers


I don’t want short shorts

and men

with make-up, made.

I don’t need


who only sing, to get paid.

I want depth behind

the words.

Where are the bards,

the merry minstrels

singing of deeds that matter?

Sing to me

of relevant emotion.

Do not tell me of

your night in the club.

no one cares bub!

Be an inspiration!

These words are a gift.

Use them responsibly!

This was inspired, when I was stuck in the car with only the radio. Wouldn’t you know it but there was nothing on but pop-rock crap.

In that instance silence was golden and I thanked the higher powers for my off button. Enjoy.


About Derek Rizzo

Author and poet since I remember, I finally decided to live my dream. I'm writing a fantasy novel. Follow-me to share my progresses and glimpses of my story as it comes to life.

Posted on July 16, 2013, in Poem, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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