No Sound

Your world is delved in silence,
Bangs, screams barely audible,
Noiseless for most parts,
Ugly sounds, pointlessly loud,
Breaking through sometimes.

I come home every other week,
A new CD for the collection,
Every time, your face contorts in confusion,
‘Why do you buy music?’ you ask,
‘It’s a waste of time.’

I am always sad when you ask this,
As my answer is simple and based on reality,
If you could hear what I hear now,
The beauty that can be found in explosions,
You wouldn’t ask that question.

But you can’t hear it.
And you never will.