Slave to the conductor
Tick tock, tick tock.
The metronome in my heart plays again,
Directing the melody embedded inside my head.
My mind cannot keep up to tempo so might aswell end up dead.
...
...
My restless heart slows the tempo.
Relying on the conductor to steer me always.
I pick up my violin and begin to play.
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.