Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2018
Wheels are spinning that I don't want
Whirring, parts are wheezing
Lubricate this, chuck that
Tinkering all day long...

But when my fingers touch music
I become human
I am composing
Something wonderful

Won't you be my lover?
We are vibrating that fifth dimensional string
Deep beneath
We are something
That wants to be felt
So dearly
Written by
Sometimes Starr  Another place
(Another place)   
76
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems