PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A melody glides on the air

in the faintly lit rooms

where we wish we weren't,

Lips pressed and lungs elated

calls a tune into view

that provides attitude for the dead eyed

and brightly bitter youth,

It's music you can die to

and we all think that's swell.

You're happily unhappy in this way

except now you can hear your tune

albeit a little beefed up,

A slight tremelo being added 

is almost the same as a thick leathery glove

smacking the crust from your crier,

This is no longer a nervous tick

or the worst way to pass idle time,

this is a blood war fueled by lung capacity

with the fibers in your chest stretched 

to quite literraly breath taking proportions.

You're in a whistle battle now

Blowing off steam 

until the target fades off tune

or you forget that everything else

has to be more important than this,

only then you realize again you're left with yourself

and idle time clicking it's jaw at you.