To Control Time

I couldn’t stay in tempo last year

As a slow musician

with no mission

I hadn’t learned how to control time yet

 

Days passed by in odd fusions

And time was certainly an illusion

there were flashes of ideas infinite

sparks of disconnected circuitry

 

So I learned to perform self-surgery

with words as my medical instruments

I started writing poetry and it played music

That revealed visions so lucid

 

Time measures years, I measure tempo

Swallowing my fears, I begin to type

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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