So this is a defamiliarisation poem. It's written in the point of view of a deaf person, hence vibrations fuel my finger tips. Imagine you're favourite passion being music but you can't hear it. Imagine Stevie Wonder, he's an inspiration to me.
The silence is deafening for those who do without,
Simple pleasures, we take for granted, the ceiling of a house,
The vibrations fuel my finger tips, whilst ruffling up my collar,
The removal of my covering, naked melody is so solar
The colours are absent; my heart begins to sing,
One glance at the screen, my ears can read nothing,
My mind goes to bliss, my skin suddenly sinks,
No room for silence, frequencies make me think:
Am I the owner of my brain, can you say you feel the same?
The way we play, you trace, I say, “today, what a waste”
The marching from inside my soul,
The beauty of the rhymes corrupt us all
And correspond correctly to those sheets upon my wall.
If you conform to a structure, you’ll lose your seam,
However, disobeying the law is disbelieving your dream,
As we criticise the world on how and what to do,
We should stop and remember it’s personal opinion too,
It flows through you, it flows through me
Connecting all cultures delicately,
No barrier here, no barrier there,
Highlighting varied morals, this, it’s rare!