There is something there.
Beat. Pause. Beat.
Something that flutters with each breath
Beat. Flutter. Beat
And remains vulnerable through it all.
Beat. Pause. Beat.
It is there through heartbreak and celebration,
Beat. Flutter. Beat
It is there through tears and lies.
Beat. Pause. Beat.
It is something I could not bring myself to break.
Beat. Flutter. Beat.
Even though everything else is dead,
Beat. Pause. Beat.
It remains constant.
Beat. Flutter. Beat.
Music for the deaf.
Beat. Pause. Beat.
A reminder.
Beat. Flutter. Beat.
A drug of sorts.
Beat. Pause. Beat.
A rythm for life to move on.
Beat. Flutter. Beat.
As though it had not nearly stopped.
Beat. Pause. Beat.
As though it were to always carry on.
YOU ARE READING
All of Us
PoetryA collection of my worse poems. No offense, but I will keep my favorites for myself.
