The Beat

I long to be a drum

The cadence loud and clear

The THUD and hostile melody

Makes me one to fear

 

So I long to be a flute

My music serene and sweet

But my whisper is too low

And is unheard by others beats

 

So I long to be a guitar

My strums crisp and strong

But if even one string snaps

The whole tune goes wrong

 

So I long to be a piano

My figure exquisite and sleek

But it’s too decorative a piece

And it’s faith is weak

 

So I conclude no instrument suits

But I know what I want to be

I want to be a pen and paper

So my pictures and words run free

comment

other comment