From Art of Mind II: All In


It’s sad how narrow a voice can travel,
Even with the Range of a Soprano —
Just because so many doors are closed.

There’s only room for so many Divas…
You can belt your heart out and shatter glasses
but you cannot crack Ear-Muffs…
You’re a superstar blending with the rest of the masses,
It seems that’s just tough luck.

There’s a voice as pure as Norah’s,
With a pitch that cannot be made clearer…
Yes, Somewhere — there is Someone Singing:
And No One is around to hear her.

Copyright 2012. All Rights Reserved
Feel free to share or Reblog with proper credit given.

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Posted in Books, Poetry, Poetry Books, Writing

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