(11:45 AM)
On days like today he likes to sit in his room,
music playing quietly as he lies in his bed.
He closes his eyes and listens as each notes zooms
like a frantic wave from the piano to his head.
The soft, sweet melody is his friend,
the harmony speaks to him like a loving mother.
He sighs as the song comes to an end,
the music fades as he favors the silence that's unlike any other.
YOU ARE READING
The Poetry Book
PoetrySince the 24th of December 2015 I've been writing one poem everyday. I figured I should post these poems somewhere instead of just letting them rot in my notes. Enjoy. *All poems are mine. If you would like to use one for whatever reason, please mes...
