The forgotten song

I wish I was the lyrics and not the lyricist. I Wish I knew how it felt to be the muse, The muse twirls my heart and cleanses my soul. The empty barren desire to ignite again and the taste of it waking up, I wish I knew how people saw me in my skin. The ashes of my childhood desires when buried in the burial of my tears, I wish somebody draped around me a garland of melodies. Songs crying my defeats and celebrating my little wins, Songs of my courage to live Songs about my ability to perceive things deep. This was all I ever longed for All the tiny bits of life to form a necklace of beeds, To relish life and quench my yearning to be seen. Never do I know if my marks will forever last, For I am just another actor playing my part in the platform of life. The plethora of longing is perennial, A crucial tool for human survival. Not a necessity to be fulfilled, For a day would certainly come when these will be forgotten by the other passengers on the train to conquer the journey of life.