When the Music Dies
Once we sang
songs of summer,
now melodies freeze
in winter winds.
If only tears could
strum guitar strings.
Revealing the truth,
as your voice just lies.
Why whisper words,
fingertips refuse to play.
Sad songs,
hide behind metaphors.
The audience begs for one more,
but the tongue yearns for
a silent serenade.
In the ballad of yesterday,
there were smiles,
affectionate attention and
enchanting embraces.
Today
each song has no soul,
rhythm has lost its spirit.
Wounded lyrics,
dehydrating in empty
chambers of my heart.
Just because you sing it,
does not mean it is true.
Simple Musing
Written 5 March 2019
Posted 27 November 2020
Found this old poem, so thought I would post it.
Have no idea why I wrote it, nor if I ever felt like that.
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