Lost Tempo
sometimes it's too hard to dance
to the old, sweet tunes
when unmindful feet turn awkward
and hands that once held you tight
no longer have the same kind of grip
and you stumble to the beat
those dizzy, tired feet
no longer willed to meet
each tempo, each pace
signaling a threat
and the only way
to save one's misstep
is to stop the dance
turn away
no more, not today
nor there will be
tomorrow to sway
Yes, I'm bleeding today. The cliché "some good things never last" is happening again. How do we keep the music from playing? How do we keep passion alive? May be for some souls, being together until the end of their lifetimes is not bound to happen. One strays, the other stays. It is the nature of man to not be satisfied, to go where the grass is greener, newer, bolder. Or maybe because the dance has become too familiar that it no longer feels comforting. Too many maybes. Time can only tell when the new music will become old, and then goes another quest for a fresh beat. For now I'll stop listening; I'll stop dancing and just hum my own lyrics.
© 2021 Flo