Music notes drop with concrete feet
To brick pavement crumbling underway
Finding footholds that slowly dissolve
Into the quicksand of time
Fading away into a generation that belongs
No where and to no one
Being dragged downward by the music notes
Cradled in your arms like anchors
That you refuse to let go
Clinging to as if it was life as it takes you away
Gripping onto stonewalls
Which crumble under the weight
Of a broken string as if hell rides on its heels
But there is nothing here
Just a musician pulling notes from the air
Like whispers from the breeze
Light and free they are caught from the wind
And tied to a string
Spun from clouds like a child’s dreams
A balloon floating away tied down by a thread
That separates it from freedom
By a fragile bond that quivers in the wind
The anchored note roams outward
With hope to stand again
But is reigned in before it can drift too far
Down the corridor of time
For a moment it will linger there
In the space before the next string is plucked
And the last fades away
The dying moment lingers with a sadness
That is tangible in the air
Suspended in a moment of being
That will never come again
