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i march to my own drummer
i lead my own parade
i do not travel other's paths
i go on one i made

i move in my own orbit
i'm at least two notes off key
i fill in words i make up
okay, then maybe three

If I am not  what you want
And you think that I am strange
It doesn't bother me at all
Don't try to make me change

I laugh when others near me don't
It doesn't matter what you see
I'm not that different in the end
I'm no-one else, I'm just me

I know my shirt in inside out
Or is it really outside in?
At least I have a shirt to wear
So, to me that is a win

As I have aged, I've changed a bit
All I ask is leave me be
You can do just what you want
I'll understand, cause I'm just me

It doesn't matter who you are
Just let me live my life
You shouldn't care how I hold my fork
Or in which hand I hold my knife

I march to my own drummer
Sometimes I go and yell at trees
I like my world the way it is
I'm not you, I'm just me
Lunar Aug 2017
the drummer boy’s
existence is emphasized
not during holidays
or birthdays
but rather onstage
where he’s the true conductor
of the band
I see him as the heart of the band
the lifeline which pumps strength
and keeps the blood flowing

because it is only through his heart
and his beats
when the strings know when to strum
when the cords know when to sing
when the keys know when to play

whenever he’s onstage
whenever the heart beats
it is not only the song which lives
but the band as well
for YDW
you're feeling 22
keep drumming
and living
ㅡjatm Nov 2016
The drummer of my heart
plays the drum
to silence the voices
in his head
in depths of ****
and while the beat
of his drum thumps
he plays the stars
as his drum set
and became
the very rhythm
of my soul.

The drummer of my heart
and the heartbeat of his drum
has got me through
the coldest nights
for his tune makes
my heart race
in excitement
enough to revive
my soul.

And now he's in charge
of each beat
of my heart.
Hypnotic music, joyous sounds surround
The fans, all entranced by the performers.
The drummer happily bashes and pounds
Everything he sees shaped like cylinders.

The hi-hat steadily keeps the rhythm,
The bass drum makes a thud, quite powerful.
The crowd can't help but nod along with him
As he makes these beats so insatiable.

The cymbals create such fearful crashes,
And his finely tuned snare shoots roaring pops
Hurtling towards the off-guard masses,
This manic madness just can't seem to stop!

What exactly does he have left to prove?
He simply wants to see everyone *groove!
I march to a different drummer
My life it is my own
I'm an explorer of experience
That is how I'm known

I've seen snow in South Dakota
I've been on the Vegas *****
Had barbeque in Kansas
My life has been a trip

I'm a gypsy of the railways
I'm a legend in my time
I move on in a boxcar
Brother... spare a dime?

I've been through all the landlocked states
Five provinces as well
I've seen Niagara Falls all frozen
I've seen it flowing fast as well

I've had margaritas in Key West
And Bourbon in Kentucky
Craft beers out in Oregon
In my life I have been lucky

I travel on my stories
Feed myself with all my tales
I'm an explorer of experience
I'm a gypsy of the rails

I never stick around too long
I don't wear my welcome out
I come and see just what I want
That's what life is all about

I've railroad friends in Texas
Some up in BC too
We've shared drinks in San Diego
And had a great Alaskan brew

I'm not one to live by your rules
I find my rules suit me fine
I'm an explorer of experience
And I'm riding on the lines

You can find me down in Georgia
Or eating spuds in Idaho
I never know just where I'll be
Until my ride begins to go

I'm a gypsy of the railways
I'm a legend in my time
I move on in a boxcar
Brother...spare a dime?
Cheyenne Jul 2015
I don't need to be known.
I don't need to be seen.
I don't need to be popular.
I just need to be me.
Don't tell me I'm wrong
if you think I'm strange.
Don't tell me I'm wrong
because I'm not the same.
I'll go my own way
and I won't follow you.
I'm doing me,
you go do you.
04/28/2010
kerry lynne Mar 2015
i fell for the drummer
hes pretty cute
and, quite ironically, meeting you on my birthday
granted my wish
not even knowing who your band was or why you were here didn't matter once you started playing
after your set a girl and I got your number
you seemed so cool and my hands were so sweaty and hot that if we touched,  I don't know if I would've frozen or if you would've melted.
I guess she didn't want to text you as much as I did
but I'm kinda happy about that

we're pretty good friends now
and I guess you could say that things are going well between us
but, like a greedy child at christmas, I want more.

I really like the way your hair feels when I run my fingers through it
and when I hear your laugh, I feel the need to grab onto you, because if I don't, I will spiral into space, content with the thought of your happiness.
our conversations usually consist of 5 word sentences spread out throughout the day but honestly, I just love to see your responses

that day you gave me your number, I never really thought it would amount to anything
probably a response back to thank me for coming to the show, and that you're happy I enjoyed it
but when we started to have actual conversations
and you remembered my name the next time you saw me
i was back at square one,
hot, sweaty palms and all
shaking so hard that Taylor Swift would be proud.

but now when I see you,
its almost as if my equilibrium has balanced.
I'm comfortable around you
I see no reason to tremble in your presence
(even though that laugh still gets me).
and even though you are probably thinking that I'm just some girl who goes to your shows
I wish to be so much more.
this is meant to be spoken word.
PrttyBrd Dec 2014
The drummer of my heart
Pumps me into being
My very blood dances to the beat
The drummer of my heart
Turns the silence into music
As my essence glides across those sticks
The drummer of my heart
Keeps time with my joy
Happily beating fear into submission
The drummer of my heart
Makes me race in excitement
Accelerating and elevating my love
The drummer of my heart
Plays the stars as his drum set
And is the very rhythm of my soul
122814
Dana Kathleen Dec 2014
We were born
beating to different drums.
But it was more than that,
you always marched
to the rhythm
of your own song.
Eventually we stopped
trying to march
side-by-side.
We both composed
our own melodies,
unable to distinguish
the beat of one another’s drum.
Until I can only hear
my own harmony and
realize you stopped hitting
your drum all together.
I have no gifts to give,
I can only stand beside you
and beat our old tune
waiting for you to find your rhythm
and begin to beat again.
Poem from Nov. 2013
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