Their metaphors and smilies
didn't strike no chord with me,
For the language lacked musicality.
The words written slowly drifted
Across the page and died silently.
I was about to give up
When notes began to appear
And flutter delicately
Across the page,
Rising, rising to create a symphony,
Filled with awe and meaning
Until they sang
brilliantly, resonating,
Haunting me beautifully.