Death by Lyricism
Began a dissonant chord,
your soft voice so off-key and
yet perfectly in time;
nothing but sentiments
and it was everything to me.
So you kept singing and
I kept humming along
to the poor rhymes,
the contrived lines,
but I was so lost in you.
The crowd snickers,
shuffles their feet along;
do we walk together, alone?
Pity clinks and falls
into the case like quarters,
cold and meaningless,
and you smile for it anyway.
Put your records on,
tell me how all life begins,
just why I sit upon this bench,
wrapped within your voice.
-----
My, I haven't been around in a while. Just thought I'd put something up because it's been a while since I've actually shared my work. Feel free to rip apart, I'm less sensitive about criticism on my poetry in any case.
