In memory,
I feel the heavy pulse as the kick sounds,
making the unknown unhidden,
making the obscure found.
The way the snare emphasized a point it tried to make,
It hit with full force, all gas, no brake.
The guitar would frighten or empower you as it struck,
striking like a backhand,
Yet I'm its biggest fan.
The keys would make you teary as you felt its sentiments,
taking you to a faraway land, that's heaven sent.
The bass would be so heavy it would wake the residents.
Strumming with full force, no remorse,
It's the star, it's evident.
Imagining yourself sitting proud behind the wheel,
On a highway,
Shades on, top down, full of zeal.
In an old-school bile equipped with pop-up headlights,
That thing was badder than a mother,
Ooh wee!
What a sight.

© artisticdreamsss