by: Tripp
the soothing sounds of a piano to a guitar the sounds they make
the feeling It brings when the piano sings playing the strings of a guitar
the times come and goes as the music grows
in the heart of those who play
thinking of that one thing that brings epiphany to that instrument you play
as you hold and take care playing with hopes and dreams the music slips through
and sings
i can't get enough of what it does to me
when i hear that sound that voice
the music she brings to my heart when I'm with her
her voice is the epiphany to my heart
holding on to her the music keeps playing
my heart keeps beating as the music plays
i keep dreaming dreaming holding on hoping this song will never end
dreaming to fall in love with this instrument forever
she is my instrument
very interesting title.... nice content... what a wow.... nice write!
very interesting title.... nice content... what a wow.... nice write!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. I borrow this from Shakespeare in your praise. CP