The 'Poem A Day' Project ~ Day 147 Poem by Flying Lemming

He stands high up on the stage
Jumping and moving as if in rage
The DJ playing in his little booth
With designer clothes and gold tooth
Pressing buttons and spinning decks
So no one knows what’s coming next
And just when everyone gets in time
He throws in a noise or movie line
To try to sound cool among the noise
A habit that really just annoys
And interrupts the music’s Beat
So dancers lose where to put their feet
But he just does it more and more
‘Til no one’s left on the dance floor
Self obsessed, its plain to see
No one loves him more than he