Echoes of Noise

A knock on the door, my neighbor’s displeasure,

a late-night jam turned a joy into dread,

“Could you turn it down?” it felt like a measure,

as bass thumped the walls and sweet melodies fled.

In my home, the sounds blur into echoes and sighs,

a cacophony rattles the peace that I seek,

just a guitar’s strum, not a battle that lies,

yet the fear of the quiet, it feels all too bleak.

As the door closes tight, I hold back the shame,

that the rhythms of laughter can trouble the night,

boundaries drawn softly, yet who plays the game?

sometimes the music feels right, sometimes it bites.