To Make a Song Sing.

The songs we sing, a masterpiece,
each tone extends like galaxies;
On every listening ear it brings
a never ending sound of peace.

Tranquil notes inscribed in sheets
paired with rhyming words of speech.
When played, compose sweet harmony
that changes gloomy life to glee.

The instrument's a painting brush,
making music a work of art.
When played, depicts the world alive,
and draws a vivid tale of life.

People always tell me that
composing songs requires a lot;
When mood seems right to make a point
of letting thoughts be put in words.

Though I don't know what notes to write,
nor how to make mere words to rhyme;
I still believe that songs are made
by heart inspired by life's charades.