I have a confession…which to this poem I shall now bring…
when I think that no one’s listening or watching…I have a tendency to sing.
When I wake up, having a playlist which contains my favorite songs,
I go into the room where I write my poems, turn it on, and sing along.
In my car with the radio blasting…sometimes I fall into a trance
I forget that people might might be watching…as I sing…and often I dance.
When I’m in the shower…or, for that matter, in the rain under an umbrella…
with no musical accompaniment…I sing acapella.
I never had dreams to be a famous singer…
with all the fame and fortune that would bring
all I know is there are times…when I just have to sing.
I know, for me, there is no better way for my day to start
than with a song upon my lips and music in my heart.
I use to wonder since this clandestine signing is my thing…
if I sing because it makes me happy…
or
am I happy…and that is why I sing…
Looking back over the years however
this is the conclusion I have reached…
It isn’t one or the other…
it’s a little bit of each.
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