Music.

after a misfits concert.. this was me.

As the music fades;

and the bodies stop moving;

when all the dust clears;

and the speakers stop banging

your brain around in your head;

when the amps stop screaming;

and when everyone goes home;

when the drummer puts down the sticks;

when the guitarist throws out the pic;

when the final beer is spilt;

and when the music finally fades;

 

there il be.

lost.

Reviews

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I really like, especially because I LOVE music. I get everything you're saying in this... It's all true. My iPod is like best friend. It's very descriptive... I can see myself there in that place. Good poem!