Music Man

As the sound surrounds, acapellas and solos resound , with silent and loud proverbs and nouns. Taking one to and from the crowd. With the change of a song, a track, melting the wax, breaking the mold, running away with it, while bringing it back. Pumping through the veins , reaching arteries , articles and ventricles making them more than 2 and 3 dimensional. The various combinations of words and beats that make the heart beat. How neat the flux that is created. How a mirror's image without paint can be painted. How emotions and their corrosions can be peacefully or violently narrated. Through his finger tips, inking quiet melodies. Inspiring and annunciating thoughts that act but may only at times taste like a remedy for the memories. Creating with it a crate full of symphonies composed of prose and poetry. The same feeling of tranquility received when feet enter the warmth of the moist sand. Played continuously in varying songs in all pores of the body by a miniscule band. This is how is orchestrated the workings of not our fellow man, but he, the music man. Ask him the question of, “Why so much depth, emotion, and passion brought forth by your hand?” He'll reply ,“ Look I can say that tunes are an essential fragment of my essence. I can make an analogy comparing how dear music is to me say and say it’s how to a flower’s life crucial is lights presence. I can even go on to say I exhale the things that society wants banned. But in all honesty I’m inspired by a lot of things. But it’s mainly because of the music.........Man.”