Slave Sonnet #7

#listen-container { display: inline-block; padding: 9px 15px; background: #10578E; cursor: pointer; transition: all 0.3s ease; border: 1px solid #1791ef; border-bottom: 1px solid #156caf; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; } #listen-container:hover { background: #2f9cf1; } #listen-container a { color: #fff; } .listen-container-svg { fill: #fff; height: 20px; width: 22px; margin-right: 5px; } #text-player { margin-right: 0; display: inline-block; font-size: 16px; top: -3px; position: relative; float: none; font-family: "Roboto","sans-serif"; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 0.1em; } Listen to this Poem Your browser does not support the audio element. I'm an instrument. I'm a clarinet. Maestro, I'm an oboe if you say so. An animal if music's not enough. Dog on command, shepherd or Chihuahua. Eat when the dinner bells chime: Ms. Pavlov, these experiments you've unleashed on me hurt and strip me of everything human; even dogs live better lives than I do. Confession: truth is my life's a picnic. Here I am, the ant you're about to squash. "Ow!"--Make that "Ooo."--My lips the letter "O." I'm a zero; nothing lower than I. Confine me or crush me--but like magic each reduction makes me all the more huge.