Dawning Creations

I want to write a pretty song but I can never hear myself think.
The noises outside pursue me and inside my head is just as loud.

I can never block them out.

The noises thunder through my windows and walls.
Inside continuous sounds overwhelm me with their rattling and raiding of my senses.
Clarity is imperceptible with this jumbled mess, noises all around. I can’t rest as I’m hungry; I’m restless in my brain.

I want to write a pretty song.
I don’t know how Jewel did it.
Songs of tragedy written so beautifully, voice of angel nearly made my heart stop.

It was rich, devine.

I can’t hear myself think through the arduous men and their machines, pounding holes in pavement.
The birds chirping and wind rustling fallen leaves across frozen walkways, doors opening and closing and steps being taken.

I could put earplugs in but it doesn’t stop the interruptions of new sounds, new interests, new distractions all around me. The noises outside and inside only will get louder as time passes.

I want to write a pretty song but writing pretty isn’t in my life’s script.