Think about music,
It's a very beautiful thing.
It can fill you with emotions,
And make you want to sing.
But parts of it can be evil,
Or mocking you could say.
It creeps into our very souls and wills us everyday.
Its beauty can intimidate,
It really gets to me.
For all the things I love about it,
I surely cannot see.
It stalks my very shadow,
And lingers in my past.
I feel it in the present,
And in the future it will last.
I wonder if music has a color,
Or if the blind can see it.
And though music can communicate well,
It can also keep a secret.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poona moon well done hey