It's not in the drumrolls.
It's not in the guitar solos.
It's not in the vocals.
It's not in the verses.
It's not in the hype.
It's not my anxiety.
It's not my scars.
I listen because it's infinite.
Here before I came into being.
Here after I wither.
I listen because it's a constant
In an ever morphing world.
So even when 6ix feet under,
I will be rolling in my grave.
Moshpitting against the creaks of my confine
Or slow dancing with my father again.
For as long as there is sounds, my soul will remain infinite.
A ghostly constant in vinyl.
My one greatest hit.
YOU ARE READING
THE IMPROMPTU MANIFEST.
Poetry" SPARK!" Poems Of Utter Spontaneity. The Raw and Unfiltered Emotion Of Living Life Without Cuffs and With Your Heart On Your Sleeve. The Pushing Of Intuition Into The Everyday World. Let It Flow. Let It Flow. And Let Words Spark Life To LIFE.
