This poem came from an exercise presented in my Creative Writing class.

 

 

Is it a cunning mind that moves its fingers over

The piano keys of human lives?

Clanging the levers of society,

Jingling the coins in its pockets,

Twanging the strings,

Rotating, swiveling, slippery as a gas

Permeating the atmosphere.

Is it a cunning mind behind the

Mechanism of Donald Trump,

Or is it just Noise?

 

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