Singing My Songs

Now when I sing my voice is shaky,
shaky beyond repair.
But inside I hear a voice that's achy,
achy from years of wear.

But I sing regardless of the voice
because I must, my dear.
And as I do I compose myself
so as not to cry a tear.

For the songs are solace for my heart
and were written to be heard.
I can't remember what came first,
the melody or the word?

But what does it matter the order of things
as long as the song takes form?
I sing it with my shaky voice
and the feeling I get is warm.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!