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( Based on Manchester Bombing, 2017, and the death of Saffie Roussos. ) "Come on Ashlee, you promised you'd get up and dance!" I look at my little sister, her grin and stubborn stance,
There was a festive redolence wafting in the night air, lingering in conjunction with an Irish melody. As I ambled further along this rustic path, something stifled my progress.
The guitarist wrinkles his face as he concentrates with dignity. He flips the page on the stand, and adjusts his fingers accordingly. The acoustic guitar resonates
Just a second agoThe magnificent flowThe room filled with soundThe noises that drownedVibration, scientifically speakingThis is what I've been seeking
Although I've never been a fan of foreign touch, seas of person pull me under with a swaying current. Escape your head,crawl out of your mind,temporal lobe knows what's best right now. Outside Los Angeles is itching to start her nightly routine o
Flawless Music I retain all these faults that could make me flawless, I can write rhymes, tell the time, though I really shouldn’t floss less.
you are by Damon Dixon you are powerful beyond belief
Still darkness engulfs me Like a sea of liquid ink When a hand palms my chest Bashing like a bomb Bashing like a bomb Rhythmically Just as I take the offensive I see the mistaken oppressor
It’s been a year, a year since I’ve been to a concert.
Chitter Chatter in the back ground; Ignore it, Focus. Tonight’s the night. You go on stage, Lay it all on the line, Show everyone your soul Lay it out in the open.
Music, The notes fall off the page You listen to the beat The melody that flows Tap your foot That’s the groove that you love to listen to Batcha The drums go
Guitar riffs, bass lines Drum beats, vocal harmonies It fills you up And I keep listening in hopes my cup will never be full When you feel music like I do And it keeps you alive
A simple butterfly before you start The sweaty palms and warming up. All your worries and fears come flying in
When in all despair, I go there Waiting in the wings Where heart will soar and spirit fly Waiting in the wings All goes dark on the scheduled mark Waiting in the wings
The theatre is all I know and love. I pour my pain into a role, hoping it will cease. But it never does. It's a curse to be an actor. It's not glamorous. It's not happy. It's not fame. It's not money.
I have coffee breath but it is worth it. I had concert breath and sleep deprivation but it is worth it to feel the energy of a dark room with only the stage lights and an acoustic guitar
Pounding speakers, screaming fans It’s strange to think how this all began. A simple story about a an orphaned boy That conquered evil and changed my life.
It was a tale of two She was Hip He was Hop They met in a frequency That no other knew of At a pace so fast That they left others behind Since that moment They stood hand in hand
Music is my life Some would say it is my wife I will attend school for music education To get out of my current situation Music is a little seed That is now easy to read
It's that aching feeling That rush That spark in your pupils. As you look up, you see that man. He's commanding every soul in the room. How though? How can it be.
Standing in line, anxiously waiting to enter the venue, I feel This strange connection with the people around me. All of them here for the same reason as I. To bask in the sweet sound of our passion.