Children Of The Static
by Lord R.e. Taylor
Even 60 years ago
The world was different
We were different, too
We had our black & white TVs
We were loyal to our three channels
That was mainly all we had
Every night, sometime around midnight
Every station would shut down
And we would get our static
Kids would spend hours looking at it
Waiting to see a face or hear a voice
Maybe it would come from the grave
It might be coming from outer space
We never knew, and it didn’t matter
It was forbidden for us to be doing it
Way too far past our bedtimes
But all that did was add to the fun
We never found out who they were
Or what they said to us
The fact that we saw then was enough
Now I look and cannot find any static
Dawn, I miss being a kid
© Poem – XVIII/XI/MMXXV
LRET
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