Soundtrack To My Life Poem by Brian (Yaotzu) Bungcayao

I near the end to the sound track of my life, so I hit repeat.
I start a new, yet everything sounds vaguely familiar.
The guitar solo seams never ending
But soon the lyrics hit my ear drums like Cuban congos
The track skips to the beat
But the chorus pulls me back.
Jazz, rock, or rap?
I’m moving to a rhythm without a style.
No grouping,
No classification,
Just music undefined.
I’m playing the same CD
But scratches and skips delet some of the tracks.
I hit forward cause rewind wouldn’t take me back.
MP3s, no, a starving artist makes no money from that.
I sit in the corner of my room with earphones on
And head bobbin to the groove
Only to realize
They wee never plugged in