The Music Room - an exercise in Personification

Everything about the room was cubical.
The plants tried to offset the squareness
with their triangular leaves and coiled vines,
but all that accomplished was they were given a trompe l'oiel look.

They screamed for identity, uniqueness,
except the space that encompassed the sparse vegetation,
even the negetive space,
could be measured with mathamatical precision.

The colors revolved closely around
the maroon furnature.
The only redeeming quality was the music
escaping from the rectangular speakers.

The room asks for conformity,
even the smell (or lack thereof)
threatens to engulf.
The sounds demand a release,
require a revolution.

The music swaggers into the room,
eases into the chair and stacks its feet on the table
like a needle on a record.

The music asks for all the eyes in the room to close,
not to create darkness,
but to allow the shapeless synapses to join the rhythm
and echo the melody that strikes the conformity
with an electrical current of volume.