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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