![]() For MusicA Poem by ComatoseSome child, behind a whisper, does live for music. Longs, To hear shimmering tones, Melody, high, low, violin " Ashokan Waltz, A sock hop, Mozart... The sweet playing of one so young, so as to set your heart overwhelmed with a joy like no other. To be touched again by the sweet angry eyes of another child’s longing to feel present, Who begs love because she knows it is the one thing that shall complete her. To be held with loving grace, the large long fingered hands, 6 feet tall, enwrapped in a gentleness unrivaled by any. Some child, behind a whisper does live for music. A child hidden, Masked through firm hand, strong tiny form who dances with headphones mile upon mile upon mile. Young man’s face Enshrouded with wisps of silver, white, brown, black hair The directional lines of The Prophet’s ‘seasonless’ world mapped deep, directional cause, effect across his cheeks Some child, behind the voice of conviction Facts, diagrams, judgments, Saved by music. This child does live for music, Longing to be sung through aged lips. © 2010 ComatoseAuthor's Note
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9 Reviews Added on March 3, 2010 Last Updated on April 5, 2010 Author![]() ComatoseTwin Falls, IDAboutI write poetry and stories, which is obviously why I'm on this site. I just want some good criticisim and other people's thoughts on my writing style, simple as that. more..Writing
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