Never One to Dance (A Poem)

A Lover of Music Laments his Musical Loss.

Image Credit: Pixabay.com/user:vincecaro72

Special thanks to Will Hull for the poetic prompt -

What’s My What? I Can’t Hear You, I’m Dancing.

I never knew how to dance very well, so I never really tried.
I poured my musical energy into being a competent guitar guy.
Sweet fingers O Mine,
I tried so hard to refine.
But player was I not, merely a parrot who appeared to fly.

Too many songs to choose from, the ones that moved my heart.
Music was as close to a religion as I could find amid my lot.
When Ozzy would drone
‘Mama, I’m Coming Home…’
It was magic for the moment, then minutes later it was not.

When Petty sang about Learning to Fly, it helped me come around.
In the end though, this musical parrot never got off the ground.
The Great Wide Open was there,
but my wings hit a snare.
And I exiled my dancing hands, never again to make sound.