I listen to music every single day. I love to get lost in the romanticism of lyrics, soaring, or growly, grumbly vocals, or try to mentally deconstruct the nuances implied, or directly woven into the music.
When I was in the shower today, I started composing a poem in my head.
What you read below is the result.
The florist opens on Monday
but There will be no bouquet
Emptying office chairs
thoughts beyond repair
Visionary poetic mumbling
intolerance healthily stumbling
beyond the veiled curtain
into an endless garden
Flower sprout, wither, rot,
Perhaps they'll untie the knot
Unmoor the shackled boat
Cast out and afloat
Eyes Closed
Mind Exposed
Alarm clock apathy
un-pursued by therapy
There is no cost
to getting lost