Delylah

Tears of brass dripping eyes closed- and a glass of whiskey, sipping- impenetrable ears penetrated. Just thinking- wish on a color faded brown. Broken strings make no sound. Drilling, digging a well, of silence, deep into the ground. Musical thoughts a’ dancing in my mind, melodies of the sickest kind. Words of wisdom never thought- something new is something lost. Something lost may be just fine, but it still sends chills all down my spine. I sit, five strings and a broken mind; sipping gold. Maybe I’m just wasting my time, and wasted time is a wasted mind, but a wasted mind is worth my time, and some would say I’m sitting blind, but sitting blind just frees your mind. And that is what most folks can’t see but that is how this poem came to be. And Delylah lets me know who I am, though Delylah just rests upon her stand