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Music (Remove filter)

Music?

Why do we have music?
How and why does it affect us?
It is a great and special art,
Which surely does connect us.

Why do we have music?
Is it to exult our souls?
It may bring us cheer and joy,
And make us feel whole.

Why do we have music?
Perhaps to give us a nice feeling?
And it's a universal language,
Which is lovely and appealing.

So why do we have music?
To see into the comp...

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🌷(5)

Stuart VannerMusic

AMY

They let you down sweet child 

27 as you predicted 

Your heart was broken lady 

Neglected fooled addicted 

They could never get your soul though 

You guarded it so proudly 

Displayed it in your words 

As you sang your heart out loudly 

You created history sweet angel 

Unfinished unnurtured child 

Your Nurtured soul we cradle 

Soul cleansed with tears you cried 

...

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🌷(7)

Amy Winehouse poemmusiclyrics

The Tracks Of My Years

The Tracks Of My Years

 

We sat cross legged in summer dusk

A smoky haze passing through

Admired artwork airbrushed

In fantastic swirls of colour

Reading words in synchronised

Staccato with the music

Flowing from the stereo

 

Simpler times

Longer hair

No aching joints

 

I wish we could do that again

But friends disappear like exhaled smoke

And some a...

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🌷(9)

friendsvinylrememberingpartiesmusic

an ode to Nancy

she died on the bathroom floor you know. 

a cut on her ribs. 

the rib borne from man, 

killed the girl on the bathroom floor. 

no one had kindness. no one had words of condolences. 

only four pictures and a note, 

only they proved someones love for her. 

the things that made her beautiful, 

an innocence lost, 

a bleach blonde tangle, 

and a vicious lover from a doomed...

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🌷(3)

poemodepoetprosewritingNancySid viciousmusictrue storynon fictionletter

a bang trim

to feel as if one has emerged from a cloud of dust each time they wake, has to mean a great deal. 

it's what's on your mind, as you duet with the girl on the other side of your headphones. 

it must feel like the brightening of the day, the singing of the earliest bird, the sweat after the fight.

at least this is what you think to yourself. 

for you it means to be able to run two steps ...

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🌷(3)

poemprosestorywritingpoetrypoet19girlhoodteenage girlnon fictionshort storyfictionthird personmusic

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