The song

It is a holiday morning, 

with trees blushing 

from the pleasant wind;

The radio started playing a song.

The voice is great,

The notes are good,

I have to dance for this,

But I can’t move...

What am I doing?

Sitting? Sleeping?

Thinking? Drinking?

Oh, the song is half-done;

Why am I waiting?

I'm aware,  

I'm afraid,

I'm confused,

that I'm not dancing.

Worthless tasks,

Needless fights,

Senseless pride,

they made me blind.

Do I ever break out?

Can I ever come out?

How to make a move,

to the tunes of the song?

I feel every second,

drifting without waiting;

The moves are in my mind,

Oh, the song starts to fade.

I start to forget the song,

its vocals and notes;

As I lose hope

on myself, I wait for

another song; But will

I last that long?