I am as lonely as a record,
sitting on my dusty shelf.
With no one here to here my song,
So I just sit here by myself.
I shall grow old,
And warp with dust and age.
Even books are burdened by days,
as wrinkles creep up every page.
I was well known for a while,
Even sought after by those who wished to hear my story.
But no I sit here as an old file stripped of its former glory.
They say time will heal all wounds,
For man this might be true.
But time cannot heal a lonely record,
That choice is up to you.
Wipe away the dust,
So that I may last.
Polish up my surfaces,
To reflect the glorious past.
Don't hide our story on a shelf to sit there all by its self,
To the record, it is not fair.
So do your part, and make a record you would be happy to share.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is one of my new favourites by you, puts everything into clear perspective, your opening line reminds me of I wondered lonely as a cloud by wordsworth, would make a killer down tempo song. Great write Ash