The Bars

With wide black circles,
In between the tall thin horizons,
Behind the twigs that climb,
Along a measure of four,
Beside the major that directs the flags and
After the tall standing clef,
But all alone it holds the crescendo of pitches,
During the piece that the bars conduct,
Off onto more,
Until the final hole of do,
I play.





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FangPoet said...
Oct. 13, 2011 at 5:35 pm
It would be really good but I dont understand what its about.
 
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