Playing to my senses
Like a classic repertoire;
Strum as it advances,
A beat of my memoir.
With endless notes
That daunts its hem,
Every memory quotes
Emotions hidden each stem.
Up or down,
Trebles to its extreme;
Smile or frown,
Flows accord as it seem.
As you take a stance,
The feet feel heavy;
The perfection of your grace
Prevails over pirouettes.
Pressure’s getting intense,
Many are watching over you;
Looking your every move
As you bring in the show.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
Playing to my senses
Like a classic repertoire;
Strum as it advances,
A beat of my memoir.
With endless notes
That daunts its hem,
Every memory quotes
Emotions hidden each stem.
Up or down,
Trebles to its extreme;
Smile or frown,
Flows accord as it seem.
As you take a stance,
The feet feel heavy;
The perfection of your grace
Prevails over pirouettes.
Pressure’s getting intense,
Many are watching over you;
Looking your every move
As you bring in the show.
For the love of aesthetic things.
