Favorite Song

There he sat, intently listening

to the sweet melodies.

Letting all the simply glistening

beats be his remedies.

Betting on the bass christening

in exertions in his extremities.

A song so blistering and fresh

he decides to name it Listerine,

and tattoo its lyrics on his flesh.

He closes his eyes, enters a serene

scene and wishes he could mesh

with the notes but keep it pristine.

His eyelids slowly rise once more.

He rises himself, now prepared

for any thing the day has in store.

To this euphoria nothing compared,

and total allegiance to it he swore.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My first attempt at rhyme in my poems.

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