Music in the Margins

The melody it sits with me as I stare at this page

Words refuse to emerge as I wait for days and days

Music that resides in the margins of your letters

Is written for the times when I refuse to feel better.

 

Carve out an ancient scroll upon which I sit and stay

I know that there are many who stroll without delay

Hurried to their destination, ready to embark

I watch them all pass by; someday I will make a mark.

 

Until then all I can do is wonder watch and wait

Whittling the time away always much too late.

Along the river bank I sit, watching water flow

Blue and green stream of light always ever low

 

I toss my head back looking towards the sky

You always told me one day I could choose to fly.

But flying’s not an option now; neither is to run

You’ve shown me without you no benevolent sun.

 

The music in the margins of your letter always knows

Exactly just which chords to strum to make my heart beat slow

I need to hear you sing to me, to hear you in the dark

Some days I just might make it, some days I disembark.

 

The road seems overwhelming and ever winding long

I want to pick up the melody and finish this old song

But the margins of your letters hold a melody its own.

I wait and watch for changes but changes never shown.

 

The sorrow in our hearts makes music and music makes it flat

Until it seems I have memorized the melody down pat

Each day that brings us closer to the other brings clear

How much chasm is between us even when we’re ever near.

To wait is still our destiny and our only binding road

To walk this lonely path and sing a melody a la mode

We must keep trudging forward you sitting in a cell

Me walking all these lonely streets that only feel like hell.