F Sharp

The river of sound
Threatens to overwhelm me,
Leaving me adrift
In the notes,
Never to be found.

People pay money for this.
Dream their whole lives
To be one with the music.
But this isn’t a song,
It’s a dreadful tone: the opposite of bliss.

Cover my ears with rags and pillows.
I can’t bear it anymore.
My sanity is in doubt
And my eyes fool me too.
What happens when the last note blows?

© 2022 Jeff E. Brown. All rights reserved.

By jebrownwriter

Houston, TX-based Writer and Photographer. Proud pet rescuer who spends nearly all his money on them.

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