Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Fayez Apr 2015
I wake up every morning
To nothing
I am alone
I only see to where my light reaches
I see nothing except my drum
I grab the drum
And play the same beat
I played yesterday
And the day before
What was an energetic beat
Changed to melancholic
Yearning for someone else
I hope someone would hear it
And just sit with me
Sooth my loneliness
I go back to sleep again.

We wake up every morning
To nothing
We are many
We only see to where our light reaches
We see nothing except each other
We hear the sound of the drums
Play the same tone
As yesterday
And the day before
What was a beat that energized us
Made us melancholic
Many set out
To find the sound
But none have returned
Demons roamed the darkness
We eventually gave up.
A story written from two view points, it's not that people want to leave people alone, it's only that they cannot understand others and sympathize.
Arturo Hernandez Jul 2014
Hear the drum in my heart
It goes bang when it can

And in my heart I see you
And I race against myself.
I forgot how to dance

With your red dress
And the the mousse in you hair,
I am just helpless.
Helplessly falling out of love

Wishing it wasn't so,
I thought about our future,
But I saw someone else.
StuKerr Jun 2014
Smooth and supple skin
Exhausted arms droop, sweat beads
You can beat my drum
Nickols May 2014
We all dance to the beat of a drum.
Our rhythm of life.
The sound, the pattern...
pounding within our chest.

We live,
we breath,


Spending our whole life,
looking for a certain cadence.
A beat to match our pulse.
It isn't until our hearts merge
that the pattern turns into a song.

A measure of first love,
the tempo of a kiss.
Flowing together in a musical harmony.

We dance,

Whistling together,
the sweet tune of ours.
A movement of passion,
the melody of marriage.

and we die

Changed forever,
as the song fades out.
Our souls made music together.
One, epic ballot.
To my loving husband.
© Victoria
Deep inside me come,
Up from somewhere deep and great:
Drums, drums in the deep,
Constant drumming in my head,
I cannot ignore.
Liz Apr 2014
The rain
slops upon
the concrete,
washing.

It washes
away what we
cannot see
and sloshes
the ground
in merriment.

I hear it
drench
the toughened
soul and
soften the
pine.

The drumming
hum of rain
on the sill
sends
slumber
to even
the restless.

And the soft
lustre
after a fall
in which
the world
sparkles,
causes
even the hardest
hearts to glow
gold.

— The End —