I, the country song that wailed
buckets of rain when played.

Scratched, I skipped life’s song.

Warped from exposure –
scorched beyond recognition,
tarnished having been overused
and abused.

You, the jukebox with a playlist.
Repeat selected of a single classic –
or so thought.

Located in a simple search
I became the downloaded file,
a ripped song from a worn cd.

Cheese-cloth hand buffs out scratches
and shines away blemishes.

Placed into heart’s library,
hesitatingly added to current playlist –
alongside “the oldie.”

Spun on the disc-changer
of love pristine,
a beat formed in unison.

A new song reverberated
and an old one frequently skipped.

Climbing the charts,
like a shooting star,
mouse right clicked
and classic removed from playing list.

Number one on heart’s chart,
sorrowed tune rewrote
and remixed
into a soothed love ballad.

Right click, left click on delete –
classic sent to the recycle bin.

Nice poem

thank you

Interesting spin - well done.

You do have a unique way of writing!!!
Well done!!

ty wench and teagle