I found my poem singing a melody
amidst the chattering of my siblings
as I pluck away at the nylon strings,
soothing my mood as I gaze at the pile of
homework cluttered on my desk,
waiting for my poem to finish its
rendition of Stairway to Heaven.
The stale air in my room fills my lungs
as each note vibrates through the air
like the beat of a drum,
finding its place in the perfect spot
on my eardrum, soothing my aching head.
My poem releases one final note,
holds it out for just a brief couples seconds
before returning to its dormant state,
resting on the stand
right beside my desk.