strings and wood – a poem

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on the floor, you stood

my happy place;

strings and wood.

a plethora of stories are left to be told,

a sweet cacophony is yet to unfold.

from the parallels of your frame,

from the pit of your mundane

are melodies yet to unravel

into a montage of sweet and sour.

aberrant it is,

how you can take away all

my pain and worries

and mold them into gay and merry.

counting down

all the new tales you tell,

i strum away into neverland.

no heaven, no hell

obstructing my way

to ecstacy;

I’m free to imagine my destiny.

Me xx

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