THE SYMPHONY

WILL THEY REMEMBER ME

As the clock ticks
the symphony of life begins
it’s music to my ears
orchestrated by countless years
of love’s different maestros
whose soprano’s, and alto’s
hypnotize, and mesmerize me
to create this beautiful symphony
where the horns are so sweet
each key of the piano unique
violins playing a rhapsody of memories
parlayed into insecurity
paralyzed by a melody
that clashes like cymbals
the piccolo resembles pain
while bass sounds like thunder, and rain
the organ strikes like lightning
suddenly my life seems frightening
a magical wave of the baton
forces me to live on
inside the notes of this poem
vibrates creativity
that musical part of me
which wrote this symphony
like beethoven, or bach
biggie, or tupac
what will become of me?
will the world know my symphony?
play it for centuries
or will it fade away
like a forgotten memory
waiting to be dusted off
in an old historic library
by a kid
who just fell in love
with poetry
reincarnating my symphony

Reviews

[Legion]

clap clap clap! I like it. Good question and good work. What do we leave behind and who will remember? I like the way you have posed this question with the symphony allusion. I had to stop and read this because of your pen name. My son-in-law is named Keith Williams. Don't think he is much of a writer though. :) Once again, good work. Kudos.