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