05-15-2013, 10:44 AM
to not be able to listen to music
each subtle breathe a singer takes before verses
the sound of fingers sliding down strings
the blunt sound of a stick hitting drums
to not be able to hear nature
the sound of feet crunching crisp leaves in august
raindrops hitting a more structured source of liquid
the sound of a rabbit?s tiny feet scrambling off
to not be able to hear the ones you love most
your mother giving you her final words on her deathbed
your soulmate whispering into your ear right before you sleep
your childs first words
if my life were to be in this mute trance,
and i knew how wonderful the world is
i might just stop living in it.
each subtle breathe a singer takes before verses
the sound of fingers sliding down strings
the blunt sound of a stick hitting drums
to not be able to hear nature
the sound of feet crunching crisp leaves in august
raindrops hitting a more structured source of liquid
the sound of a rabbit?s tiny feet scrambling off
to not be able to hear the ones you love most
your mother giving you her final words on her deathbed
your soulmate whispering into your ear right before you sleep
your childs first words
if my life were to be in this mute trance,
and i knew how wonderful the world is
i might just stop living in it.

