"I always wanted to play the guitar,
the piano, the bass, the drums.
To feel the strings, tightly strung,
fibers woven together to make a song.
Or tickle the ivory keys and unlock a
lonely, solo melody.
The crash of metal and plastic as the wooden sticks
splinter, slamming into the drum.

But I never could figure it out-
I didn't have the time, the know-how
So I just thought about it, forgot about it
And regretted it each time I heard a song
Sensed the rhythm the instruments made.

I waited far too long, wasted my time not doing
So I had to settle for writing. I had to make
my words create the rhythms like the instruments could.
I wasted one passion, and this one is my all, my fait accompli
Music is beautiful
Words are beautiful
Music makes me wonder
Words are my passion
Some music expresses how I felt
All I write is a story of my dreams

And some of them, I had no time to dream"

Passions by Daniel Sloan; Transitions - a collection