Some secret in the music <br />led the way. <br />Once in, no bashfulness, no <br />awkward, stumbled steps. <br />Easing amongst the throng <br />the stanger's tongue spoke <br />on weighty things with eloquence <br />and dreadful sense. <br />They listened. <br />He droned on. <br /> <br />Did the music dull- <br />or conversation pall? <br />New light shone in the night. <br />There came a tune the <br />company adored more. <br />They shifted, like a herd <br />seeking other words. <br />some nuance, some special thoughts <br />but it was more of the same- <br />a looping spool cackling the same old, <br />dear old dreadful dross. <br />They traipsed from room to room and <br />door to door <br />until they found themselves - <br />outside. <br />Outsiders.<br /><br />James Mills<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/party-time/
