Two Tropical Maracas
When the time comes, to say goodbye,
And the shadow that looms over us becomes
Even darker, I would like to hide
And become a musical maraca, perhaps.
When the silence threatens with taking over,
And your voice becomes softer and softer,
We could both become tropical maracas,
And play our sounds to the world, at last.
Two tropical maracas, you and I.
Two folky maracas, decorated with green
Palm Trees, and soft backgrounds. Two playful
And loud maracas, singing at unison.
When these clouds surrounding the sun
Try to take over, and our hands are
Wrinkled paper leaves, I would like to escape
To a world where we can still dance.
Two tropical maracas, resting on brass
Stands, you and I. Two musical instruments
Refusing to go quiet, even when the night
Tries to scape, and tomorrow hides.
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