Sound Was Stolen

this is not really a poem, just another one of my bits of nonsense that my mind produced

It came after the quiet, like they said it would.
It came with boats and tools, fish and seals. 
It came with water and fury, with washing machines and lost socks. 
It came with despair and curling irons.
They said it was loud,
loud like a thousand freight trains on a one-way mission.
Well, they were right.
It was as if all the sound in the universe was crammed,
or maybe tied to it,
hand in hand.
And the after was like the before,
quiet. 
That wave,
that hurricane,
that tsunami,
when it left it took a lot of things
and it left others,
but most of all,
it took the trains.

Reviews

[RAOrourke]

I enjoyed your poem, my favorite line being:
And the after was like the before,
quiet.
powerful sentence.
I was left a little confused at the end with "train"?

[Ghost of Jupiter]

I have to agree with Cowboy, this is definately a poem, a very good one! "It came with water and fury, with washing machines and lost socks. " I just loved that line... just seemed to walk right off the page. Well done!

[speckledbyrd]

Thanks for taking the time! I'm glad you liked it

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

I don't know how you can say this isn't a poem, cause it is and a fine one at that. It to me freely expresses just how vulnerable and fragile the human psyche can be.

[speckledbyrd]

Thank you, I really appreciate it:)

[The Rock And Roll Cowboy(REBEL WITH A CAUSE)]

You are welcome.