Touch of Innocence

Fingers calloused from the strings playing all his empty love songs; Purple amethyst sits nearby without any hint of a spark; He doesn’t feel his own lyrics, can’t catch that fire like he once did; Dancing around all of those beats, smoking a ton of tobacco, and his voice? The sincerity’s completely blown out; Now he can’t move a muscle; Frozen by the gold edged music box as it rotates playing an old tune over and over again; He’s become stuck wound up so tight; Seeking release he searches desperately begging the Muse for freedom; Allowing the touch of innocence to summon music once again; Fingers calloused from the strings playing all his empty love songs.