Imaginary Music

How often do the sirens blare
When no one’s there to listen?
An empty orchestra of white noise
Conducted by the absence of sound
Playing in front of a missing congregation.
Despite the fact that appreciation lies elsewhere
The symphony of silence dutifully continues
Because the beauty of its imaginary music
Lies not in the minds of the crowd it cannot please
Or in the notes it does not play
But merely in the fact that it is real.

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