I sing a poem
With sealed lips.
No sound produced
My tongue fell asleep.
Vocal chords
Not uttering
A note,
Yet various textures of sound I do hold.
My teeth dwell together
Still I do not utter
A hoot.

My mind rummages
In a busy mind's clan
Presiding over meetings
Of Notes,
Phrases,Ideas,cues,
Sounds.
Hopping
Up and down
In their musical
Attires
Jazz, R&B,Soul,Rock

And what have thee?
For contract's sake
They lobby to get ushered
Through the mystery tracts
Of my vocal chords,
To the limelight world of words
Falling
From the walls of my tongue.
On to the lines
Of my still-blank sheet.

Transcending
Into characters
Words,
Voices And emotions
I scribble away,
Satisfied.
Notes,Sounds, cues
And Ideas, moulded into a hobby for me.