Music doesn’t worry, it’s happy

Music has a way of making people feel,
making people sense, making people steal
a little part of the emotion, part of the waves, most of the ocean.
You can touch the trebles, and fear the lyrics, but when it comes down to it,
you’re the only person who will hear it.
I might ask for motivation to write, but it doesn’t ignite
the fire of the real, the flame of the feel, like music ever will.
Sounds a bit cliche I know, but what can we say
about a subject that knows no boundaries.
No way around or through these unmistakable artists
trying to survive in a tough life surrounded by liars and marxists,
but all creating a similar sound we familiarize, prioritize, and customize.
An engraved sound everyone tries.
A man arrived on the metro, bongo’s in hand
egg shakers in hat, a true one man band.
“Don’t be alarmed” he exclaimed
“I just want to make ya’ll feel happy” he explained.
Busts out the beat, bongo’s to the benches
Ignoring the ignorant looks and metro stenches.
Rhythm’s of Bobby Mcferrin, Don’t Worry Be Happy he was sharing,
and all with the charisma of a man whose priorities are caring.
And I sit here now listening to that very same song
wondering where that man still is, probably telling someone to sing a long
not worrying, being happy.