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Hidden Friend
Plastic keyboards,
wooden guitars,
dancing on my grandma’s patio
to the batacha from El Son.
Swaying and shifting our hips
to the rhymes that play.
The music brightens our spirits.
Brings us together like a bouquet of flowers.
When I am alone
I can always count on you.
Like a hidden friend
everyone shares.
But no one loves you as much as I do.
You have become not a hobby but a dream.
A hidden aspiration,
a hidden hope,
of performing under the bright lights.
To express my thoughts with others through you.
To let others know
that no matter how dark it may seem now
it will all get better.
The countless hours that I spend
pressing the same keys,
singing the same songs,
perfecting the same techniques.
No matter how many nights I spend with you
it never feels like enough.
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This article has 1 comment.
I grew up with music surrounding me and it has become something that I am very passionate about.