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Rescued By Music

The words Dad shouted at me still
Pounded in my aching ears.
You’re useless. Miserable. Just get out.
I crawl into bed, broken and sad.
Reaching for my battered iPod,
It comes to life.

At first, nothing. Then,
Slow, mellow guitar notes begin,
Seeping into my ears,
And into my soul.

Now, soft, calm words come,
As if they were written to me,
Reassuring me,
Lifting me up,
Piecing me back together,
Until I’m whole again




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