You’re a damaged song
All your lyrics are wrong
How did you get this way?
Where is the child
That was carefree and wild?
What happened that dreadful day?
Alas I can see
The image is me
No music left in my soul.
A strumming of time
Without rhythm or rhyme
Has finally taken its toll.
Where once was an opus
Of treble clef notes
And bass that rippled the air.
Are now broken tones
Solitary, old bones
Displayed on a sheet of despair.
This was a great piece. beautiful, in a melancholic way.
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Thank you so much! ;-)))
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This is amazing, Kevin!
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Thank you, friend! ;-)))
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You’re very much welcome, Kevin! 😊
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Very nice use of extended metaphor!
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My humble thanks, Liz! ;-)))
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Aging seems to do this to us – we lose that wonder and replace it with the need to “do,” to “schedule,” to “achieve.”
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And I’m so ready to “retire…” Ha
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