It doesn't matter if it’s 
Country, Pop, or Hip-Hop,
the noise fails to
excite the drum
in my ear.
Dull, and without
soothing sound,
I search artists and musicians,
determined to hunt
down a band of real music,
each time, walking away,
hands filled with disappointment
and bore.
And then one day, as if
the lyrics were
shouting my name with great
emotion and exhilaration,
I came across
a pot of gold.
Fashioned with eyes
made of “X’s”,
and a smile that ran from
green to pink,
the logo lured me closer.
Unable to shake away
Tom’s voice and
and the beat of
wooden sticks against
cylinders of great proportion,
the sound of
Punk Rock
began to grow against my
soul, like the way
moss grows on the north
side of a tree.
And with every track
stuck on repeat,
individuality flowed through
the veins in my arms,
driving independent
nature.
But despite the recent
series of melancholy affairs,
Blink 182
stands, inspiring and
completely inappropriate,
at the origin of
my applause.