The Silent Cry Poetry Collection

One and the Same

One and the Same

There he sits composing again,

Looking for inspiration down memory lane.

A guitar resting on his knee,

Fingers hovering over strings “C” and “B.”

A pen flies furiously across paper,

He’s writing lyrics so as not to forget them later.

A few chords he strums delicately,

While behind a piano sits elegantly.

Both instruments hold his heart,

For those three it’s till death do they part.

He sings a few words hesitantly,

Happy they flow together, coincidentally.

Lovingly he sets the guitar to the side,

For now in the piano he does confide.

Hands gliding over keys ivory and black,

Talent this musician doesn’t lack.

Because when you sit there and hear and see,

Him playing his songs with undisguised glee,

You understand that the lyrics, music and name,

All flow together as one and the same.