I’m like a one who plays the drums
Not from the printed page
But as the inspiration comes,
And be that calm or rage.

I celebrate each sunny day
Yet also honour rain,
And play for those who’ve gone away
And come back home, again.

But now I have to fall in line
And beat a marching tune.
And, though I know it isn’t mine,
I’ll master that, too, soon.

In any life, there comes a time
When keeping order’s prime.

Photo by Christina Deravedisian on Unsplash

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