music burns
like acid
etching away
the memories
of time,

the past doesn't care

i never knew
only strove,
no patience,
running
with tightly laced shoes,

trophies made from plastic

music carves,
cuts,
punches
and leaves
on the floor
staring up,

the ceiling doesn't care,

music fills,
laughs,
loves,
and then
lets you free.

watch out for the the coming rain
 
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