Walking through a field of dandelions
Clinging to my wish,
Clutched in one hand,
Wondering what on earth
I could possibly ask this field of dandelions for.
Should I ask
For my audition to go well?
Or something personal like
I hope my friends don't hate me by the end of this year?
Or should I ask
For good grades
Or maybe
For next year to
Not suck?
All the questions
Echo around my brain
As I stand among the flowers
In this field of dandelions,
Clinging to my wish.
When I find
That maybe I don't love it anymore -
When I lost the spark
When I realized
I don't really care
If I make it,
Or don't -
It scares me.
I wander around at practice,
He raises his hands,
And as our cue,
We begin our dance -
Instruments,
Communicating,
It's like we can talk to each other
Through the song.
He claps his hands twice -
I feel the drumbeat.
I feel the pulse of the music,
Reverberating around my ears and brain,
Twisting into my heart.
I feel the bassline
With each hit of the sound
Pulsating your energy around you
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