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.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you so much! ;-)))
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is amazing, Kevin!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, friend! ;-)))
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re very much welcome, Kevin! 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very nice use of extended metaphor!
LikeLiked by 1 person
My humble thanks, Liz! ;-)))
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aging seems to do this to us – we lose that wonder and replace it with the need to “do,” to “schedule,” to “achieve.”
LikeLiked by 2 people
And I’m so ready to “retire…” Ha
LikeLiked by 1 person