Blackout

it's always been a confusing matter
as to such why
my sight has always heeded
when blackouts cause such panicking cries

and its gets me everytime
when imperfect vocal chords could dance the halls
instead of i love sex songs
rippling the walls

maybe a blackout would force
candle lit dinner dreams
instead of potato shoving,
shuttered focus on screen  

perhaps hours may be spared
to enshroud the lies
from intricate dirt smearing
around sadly stoned eyes

pondering wayward once again
i've always examined about;
the color on our skin would evaporate
if there was a dark, dark blackout

and you know it's a cute little thought
as people holding hands would run
on giant hampster wheels
for a tiny bit of electrical sun