From the Start the Hand did Thrust,
the pointed truth a sword of dual,
the doubled edge to express,
every River has it's Let.
Not one side nor the other,
the balance is the dividing suture,
a Canyon knows this Flow.
Deeply rooted to this it's rare,
for in the grain of salt,
the flavor is to shake,
spicing up the meet of which,
people feel the heat!!
Flare to spoken frames of spare,
the obvious would be to tell,
a Radio is much like Bell,
the plays have gone straight to pave,
only what is tuned to spray.
To listen to the Stereo talk,
changing channels so I can Rock,
finding that the Stations wrap,
the exact same songs to tap.
Weird to believe that Verse can't deed,
so many Singers with Songs that lead,
not down a path of ever bleed,
rather instill a good old-fashioned breed,
of Music Lovers not basic covers.
Know notice to the board of scan,
discount the merit for it has a plan,
the measure of this dignity,
expires with no humanity,
the morals of the stories spell,
that nothing is lost in tell.
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