If I was to write an underscore,
For my life, it would be full of changes,
A sea of dissonance with tiny outcrops of safety,
A deep, dark, angry piano,
Broken through briefly with strings,
And a flute to accompany my tears,
As they gently crawled down my cheek,
And there would be sudden key shifts
Leading into bursts of understanding,
And gentle nights of freedom,
Growing slowly into a bright promise of a future,
Filled with solos becoming a wall of brass,
Gaining confidence until I would stand,
And sing alone.
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 7:30 PM UTC
If I was to write an underscore,
For my life, it would be full of changes,
A sea of dissonance with tiny outcrops of safety,
A deep, dark, angry piano,
Broken through briefly with strings,
And a flute to accompany my tears,
As they gently crawled down my cheek,
And there would be sudden key shifts
Leading into bursts of understanding,
And gentle nights of freedom,
Growing slowly into a bright promise of a future,
Filled with solos becoming a wall of brass,
Gaining confidence until I would stand,
And sing alone.
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