We are the ghosts that walk this world, faceless in a crowd of millions. Our footsteps pound against the concrete, but do we leave an imprint behind? Our voices rise and fall, but are we ever heard? Do the cries of love ever find our heart, and will the chains of this world break from our soul? And does our dream remain alive, fires haunting our waking lives, telling us to fight for what we are and never to fade away because if we disappear, do we remain ghosts wandering this world? The blueprint of dreams etches across the strings of talent, and angels sing, capturing us in song. And we stop to listen, savoring the taste of life, and we drift no more because their music calls our heart home.
I can’t escape the confines of this life. Jagged corners cut me deep, and an endless cycle holds me in repeat. And the warmth of this coffee shop tries to silence the chill running through me, and the sweet flavored coffee tries to erase the taste of bitterness. But my world waits for me to step back through that door, and I know I have to go. But then I hear her voice, and I stop. The color of beauty envelops the gray patterns of my life, and her words sing to my heart. And I feel alive, beating in sync to her guitar, and the weight of this world breaks down, falls apart. And I sit back, tapping my fingers against the table, and whispering to the spiral of lyrics weaving across the air, and my soul flies high, finally escaping if not for brief moments. And I am ready to step back outside.
Life whips by on the E train, and still I wait along the platform. My destination remains unclear, but I drift from stop to stop, hoping to find where it is that I am supposed to go. But I remain lost, wandering through endless, dark tunnels with no hope of return, but I cannot remain standing still. And another metal caterpillar heads my way, ready to whisk me down the streets that wait above, but how far must I go to find myself? And his voice strikes a chord in my soul, and my heart falls across the strings that he strums to life. And the echoes of this world sound through his lyrics, lighting the fires to dreams kept inside, and the ghost of me is no more. And as I step aboard, I look back to him, smiling with his devotion, and his songs give light to the way that lies ahead.
“Our future is golden. Promise fills the seats of this theatre, and we are ready to change tomorrow. Mistakes made fall to us to erase”
Our future is golden. Promise fills the seats of this theatre, and we are ready to change tomorrow. Mistakes made fall to us to erase, but are we ready to carry the burden? Has this world fallen out of reach, and will distraction keep our minds entertained? And will we deny the dreams that beg to live, the dreams that now beat across the stage, and can we shut the door to the talent shining before us? Are we doomed to fade away, faceless in a sea of chaos, or will we stand and fight for what we believe? Will the music of this coffee house performance tell of what we wish to say, wish to feel, and can we remain alive under the weight of this world hanging by a thread above us? But that is left for tomorrow. Tonight, we are alive, hanging on their every words, and singing to the heavens that we are here, that we are ready, and our future remains golden, unwritten. And we grab the chords of time, ready to play our songs across the page.
Mindless routine has me in step, and every day is the same. Nothing changes, and I remain, alone. And my heart is heavy, and my soul sinks further. And the drink in my hand can only quiet this world for so long, and consequences wait to break me apart. But I want to forget. I want to be alive, and their words pull me in, spin me around, and lift me from this ground. Forget today, no more yesterdays, and live in the now. And beat with their adrenaline, their energy, and my feet dance to their rhythm. And my heart cries no more, and my soul takes flight. And life takes hold, and I disappear in song. I fade into them.