Loud voices

Overhead, the tannoy begins

its daily screech

calling on the broken people

to give up their reach.

Pulling the clouds back

across the brightening sky

and drumming in orders

mimicking the buzzing of a fly.

“Bring out the ear plugs,

let’s deaden the sound!”

Someone shouts

circling the round.

At first, the response is dull,

little more than a whisper,

then the idea pops open

in their minds like a blister.

The movement surges,

a road is paved;

a future awaits where

they might all be saved.

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