I wrote this poem a long time ago; i told myself that someday I’d write this down on a piece of paper, substitute the word ‘unknown’ with a name and present it to the person whose name it belonged to. Inspiration comes from everywhere, even just the thought of a person who might or might not exist.
“When it feels like I’m sitting by the riverside
And this music fills the scene,
Peaceful, and I can’t wait to come here again
I hear every strain and every change of tune
The sound of your strings and their movement
Sad and alone, empty but full
You always looked with your heart,
So your eyes are white as ash, burnt and long gone
I call you my poet, and my poem
Stars come out unnoticed, tears fall unfelt
I am changed.
My soul belongs to you, I will sit here and wait
till you play your song again when the breeze whispers its return.
Growing up and growing old used to be a scare
Carry me forever,
I could live forever.”