the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time

Day 37 – Structure

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It’s the high pitched, the no-knowing, slow-going ease
It’s the loud boom that fills the room
It’s the country zest dressed in southern mess
The commanding force
Forceful yet firm; relentless
The timid and unsure; helpless
A soft mutter, a simple stutter
Dirty, filthy diction from the gutter
Or the gentle whispers and sweet serenades
Of timeless appreciation
Etiquette shaped by yes ma’ams and no sirs
Wobbly slurs
Evolving slang
Twists and twangs
And the finer things
Jumbled and tumbled
Simple sentence and complex thoughts
Tossed and jostled
Fixed and fine-tuned
Redone, relearned; unlearned and burned
Tongues that move without restraint
Waves of varying sounds and songs
Rights and wrongs
Slowly, softly
Loudly, quickly
We write the wrongs, embed them
Embrace them, forget them
Til it’s too late
No longer will we get along

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