The music in silence

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Summary

Music is part of poetry, so sing through your words. Realising I can't sing to save my life or even keep in tune to live my life, I composed poems which are inspired by music. I appreciate being able to hear and dance.

Status
Ongoing
Chapters
2
Rating
4.0 2 reviews
Age Rating
13+

Hit real hard.

The fateful romance commenced

when you mysteriously locked eyes.

Oxygen molecules seemed

to carry his silent kiss

To your smooth solid skull.

Penetrating to the brain

Through your gushing blood.

But, dear, you looked down too quickly

to see the true intentions

written in those beautiful, brown eyes.

You, foolishly, thought he was solid ice,

Let him give you a price,

Made him the center of your life,

When what he truly was, was a falling star.

And I guess he hit you real hard.


I would soothe you, dear sister,

But you snatched the words from my heart

When you assertively claimed,

’it’s absurd for hearts to be broken.

They are made of strong cardiac muscle.’

You forgot that the heart is myogenic.

It dances to its own sound of music.

When you sang Ed Sheeran’s perfect

Thinking he will not give you up this time

He chanted, ’baby I’m perfect,

If you like causing trouble up hotel rooms

I can be the one you love from time to time.’

While you acknowledged

he was ’the reason why

You were dancing in the mirror,

singing in the shower,’

he was thinking ‘these girls ain’t loyal.’

You thought that when he sang

‘You are amazing just the way you are’

it was because you are from out of space

Nah, he thought of ‘your waist in particular.’


Didn’t the poets work to record detailed testimonies

Didn’t the scientists’ time machine carry their words across centuries.

Those great writers that weaved words into emotion,

Were their words thrown into the mind’s ocean?

Because waves are now crushing

on the cardiac shore of your landlocked heart.

Sadness now floods those four chambers

That you swore would swell with love.

Your mind, saw the surface,

that undoubtedly beautiful face.

Your eyes, skimmed down

that well portioned body,

Clothed in vibrant colors.

I don’t blame you for falling in love

he was made to outer perfection.

But, dear, you looked down too quickly

To see the wrinkle

Or is it dimple

Oh, it certainly caused a ripple.

But he’s a falling star.

or is it, a shooting star?