Poem A Day, Poetry

Day Twenty Nine, Poem Number Twenty Nine: “Everything, All the Time”

music was our language
a common tongue shared
that divined and divulged
hopes, fears, desires, and prophecies
mixtapes could be
mysteries to be unraveled
or masqueraded confessions
or a better way to express befuddlement
or Everything, All the Time
but that is a broken record
i could never play on repeat ever again
the band broke up
and I find myself
breaking down
the cafes, arenas, night clubs, all empty
on this solo tour
i’m making a new playlist now
one just for me that will
silence the noise from those beloved
songs I can no longer stand
because they are resilient monuments to you
and unlike a tune stuck in your head
i cant just tune you out , this number called
Everything, All the Time.

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