note follows a note
like night follows day
rusty old piano
still ready to tell a tale
but I fear I don't know
the keys anymore
what will we
achieve in this lifetime?
I wonder who will walk
behind me, trying to finish
all the ideas I failed to create
all the stories I failed to write
all the poems I kept inside
it's easy to judge the past
when looking at it from the future
how it steals us from the now
the long hours spent
being locked inside
your own shell
ever noticed what thoughts
became a part of you?
how some words
became a comfort zone?
some evenings it pours,
pours down in your mind,
the things that could've been
the moments you could've lived
leave a different taste of the days
maybe find a way to best describe –
the rhythm of the hearts you miss
the warmth of a loved one in your
bed
the scent of your newborn in your
hands
the way you felt happy when you
stretched the limits of your body
and mind
the freedom you find when you
acquire the void
the constant yearning to hear the
music
and just dance in this universe
of possibilities and dreams
*
Sometimes you hear a song, and thoughts just pour out; it's that simple.
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