I Am

Mon, 09/07/2015 - 16:30 -- krr2412
I am the quiet music in the background
That none can hear
Unless they were listening for it
I am the single drop of rain
That a little girl will brush off her cheek
Without even glancing up at the sky
I am the static that the radio plays
Until the young man in the driver’s seat
Turns it off in disgust
I am the squeak of an old violin
That has yet to be thrown away
For its strings no longer sing 
The way they used to
I am the forgotten teddy bear
Sitting on the top of a dusty bookshelf
Looking down on the bed
In which I used to sleep
And yet I call myself most:
Happiness 
 
 
This poem is about: 
Me
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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