Wobbly
I think I can singBut if things go wrong
I can always whistle
True, out of tune
But
A friend of mine once told me
He could sing a song with a tear in his eye
I knew what he meant, sad songs do that
So take my heart and fly away
On the back of a tuneless song
The memories etched in semi quavers
Newspapers don't carry emotions, only events in black and white
Editors colouring the news to suit themselves
I still think I can sing
Sing songs and whistle like a nightingale
So I will wash the cups
Dim the lights
Turn off the TV
Pull back the curtain and watch the stars
whistling across the black sky
The semi quaver stars play melodies
Follow them with a whistle
I can always whistle to hide the pain
The stars have seen it all before, a million times
Out of tune tears
And wobbly whistles
Poetry by JohnJohn
Read 700 times
Written on 2016-04-16 at 22:18
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