At a concert…..
We all merged with the cacophony,
And submerged in the heat of each other’s embrace.
All except him —
He was a foreigner to music.
Eyes shut, Mind blank,
I twirled around, and strummed my guitar anything but gracefully.
My worries would drown in my tears; and my tears would drown in my rhythm….
Amidst the cacophony, amidst the heat of foreign sounds,
I heard my rhythm.
But he watched it;
Felt it,
Loved it.
He was the only foreigner to music..
Which is why when others fell in love with the familiar riff,
He fell in love with the foreign person making it.
U write poems too?
Wonderful piece.
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I try. 😊
I’m glad you enjoyed reading it! Thanks for stopping by
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