From SY: To The One That Broke My Heart The Hardest

When I think about us, songs play in my head and vice versa. This letter poem can only be 'Songs of You'  that I wish I could stop singing.

Songs are mere tunes on the radio,
They have meaning and soul,
Some funk to beats we all know,
A few mellow but others bold.

Every song has it's melody,
Beats and notes in harmony,
That was what you taught me,
You and me, made a beautiful symphony.

Songs were ridiculously important,
You played a tune for every moment,
Made me feel intensely relevant,
You made each memory potent.

It could have been jazz or pop,
Techno, EDM or slow rock,
You had moves to go with every head bop,
Endless new songs to surprise me from your stock.

After you, those songs remained,
Songs from Red Jumpsuit Apparatus,
Owl City's lyrics ingenious and plain,
They persisted unlike our relationship status.

You made me a lyrical mess,
Every note goes off pitch,
Trailing words I would confess,
But in no way could I cure that itch.

My playlist did not change,
Despite the three years that had passed,
Though my taste did expand in range,
You made them my favourites from the first to the last.

Just like that one hit wonder,
With that unforgettable tune,
It will be you that I remember,
Even if it is fifty years from now in June.

You will ring in my head,
Be that song that keeps me up at night,
Be the memory I bring to my death bed,
Forgetting you is an impossible fight.

Every song I listened to since you,
Came alive in every way,
Songs of love so tried and true,
Ballads that made me wish you had stayed.

You were my song of choice,
The one I would sing all my life,
At the top of my lungs till I lost my voice,
Despite knowing that I will never be your wife.

- SY

2230H 11th March 2016
Jalan Pahang




SY is a 'Jacqueline of all trades' who loves wearing plaids.
She doesn't believe in things that fade and fulfills the promises that she made.
She seeks the hearts of the troubled, to be a listener in times when things are doubled.
She's the kind who stands in the gap, who will only call it quits when it's a wrap.


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