From the Scattered Mind

you're so far away my  mind  --echoing through--   am i dying and everythings going in        and                  out                         of f o                                        c                                                                 ...

I live on a stage where The crowds all stare with expectant eyes At me and my guitar. I stand, stock still, Until a friendly hand rests on my shoulder. I smile at the bassist, the drummer And tentatively play the first chord. I live on a stage where The crowds all stare with expectant eyes At me and my guitar. We soon have them swept away by the music But our legs begin to ache So we turn around, go backstage Before playing our next number. Assignment: Write a metaphor poem about your life.