The sound the surrounds
resounding in a noise.
The song I sing when my heart
is filled with gladness, sadness.
The one thought
that rings in my head when I wonder
with every word being said
"Does it go on forever or is it dead?"
This poem is very thought provoking for me, because I had heard that sounds never die...they just keep moving outward. I had wrote this poem while playing my guitar and listening to a bunch of teenagers talk trash about each other. I couldn't help but think...will the sound of my music be carried on with the sound of their negativity?