Within the silence
of husks abandoned,
rest the failed kernels
of magical symphonies
never to be heard.
notes and chords
harmoniously discordant,
and bewitching rhythms join
in a story of Truth.
We are all
Composers
And
Poets
-with performance anxiety.
Our gifts lay precious, intact, and
inside.
Perfectly wasted
in perfect solitude.
Bravo…
Bravo….
theDeprevation 