PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

On the bus today,

I listened to poetry,

Mixed with music and harmony,

I barely listened to the words,

With broken headphones,

But I noticed how the string of notes,

Perfectly coodinated with drums,

And a subtle bass line,

Kept me interested,

But it came with something els,

A feeling or maybe a longing,

For something more or something real,

With each pop of the snare and every string plucked,

That feeling grew more and more,

The tone made me reflect on the day,

Sometimes my head would follow a random tangent,

My thoughts were disorganized and I kept trying to focus,

But you know how these work,

I could've distracted myself with friends or knowledge,

Maybe even act out in comedy,

I'd already decided to listen to this though,

So the melody creeped into my ear,

and every measure brought me even more down,

The album itself held this mood for most of its songs,

I knew I didn't want to change it, 

Despite me worrying about my emotions,

I looked out the window,

I guess I decided to be profound,

Or is it philisophical?

Either way I tried to lose my self,

Like I used to all the time,

And in a way I did, 

Not how I used to though,

I'll admit it made me sad,

I'll admit I'm not who I want to be,

At least not yet,

Maybe I could'nt save myself from this music,

Or maybe I didn't see a point to it,

It felt like my favorite band betrayed me,

Changing anger for art,

In a way I was dissapointed,

It wasn't the same without Ed singing,

Wasn't the same with out those little bouts of anger,

Or a crazy singer pleading with his seraph,

However a small part of their newer music reflected on me,

Growing up might be sad or even a little boring,

Today I wrote words in a computer,

Perhaps to try my idealic poetic mind,

Try my hand at writing,

Make something great, 

And you know the words just didn't seem to fit,

I sat at my table writing something I didn't like,

So I scraped it began something new,

I had no idea though,

So I wrote about my day,

Or rather a small part of it,

Besides the small banter of a distant kid,

I had no one els to share what I felt,

I wrote instead, 

Not even caring if it was good or presentable,

But just to match the music that still played,

Match my outside to my inside,

Today I wrote how I feel,

And the music still plays.