Vagary

I am a new progression of chords on a major scale. My irovy is the same with a new collection of notes. Instead of them clashing as they have done before, they harmonize into a scale of grace. Two pieces of the same movement at last progressing into the final pace. I am composing new sheets with a different melody featuring a new meaning replacing the last. Ironically, love has given me motivation to continue my arrangement of life. It is the steady beat of a measure filling my chords into a fuller sound. The time signature of a year has proven that the beginning of a piece of music is not the same as the ending. 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741