My name is Music.
And sometimes, I like to think about what part of me she will explore today.
Always, I hear her voice, as smooth as silk, loud and clear, singing the words of my soul.
Often, I'll see her tappign her feet, banging her head, and moving her body as graceful as a gazzele to the pounding rhythm of my heart.
My notes wrap around her being, her spirit, making her become part of me.
My name, is music.
She likes when I pretend not the notice when she stumbles over my delecate words and misses my tender notes.
Her voice reaching out to me, and making everything okay, if only for a momment. I feel it.
She says I stroke her intrigate mind, her lonely heart, her adventurous old soul as she has mine.
I've heard her say she'll never leave.
Yet, I still seem to worry that one day she will forget me and find newer and better friends than boring little me.
My name is music.
I get she can't spend every waking momment with me, or even come to visit once a day.
So, I say "It's okay." with a smile she never knows is fake.
My dreams are filled with her one day making me known, famous.
Though I try to please her, calm her, cheer her, excite her, comfort her, and even persuade her, it isn't that easy to do. Sometimes I fail, and she leaves for a little.
Yet, I still hope she will never forget this old friend.
I am Music