Albarn

Wed, 03/30/2016 - 21:53 -- tjg3005

Albarn sounded the alarm which ended the self harm

The proof is the invisible scar on my arm

I was drawn in by the undeniable charm of his art 

 

It felt like a fresh start so now I think therefore I am like Rene Descartes

The first drum roll drew me in, this feeling I will not bogart

The music kept me pushing forward like a shopping cart

Never taking another holiday like Paul Blart

 

So thank you, Damon, I've planned on staying no longer straying

Your tunes will keep me swaying until my hair's graying

No longer do I feel like a vagrant boiling over with hatred

You're my truest patron

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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