Breathe

My soul cries out from the middle of all of this, begging for a release that will never come. My soul longs to create music as the expression of itself.
Sometimes while I am listening to the radio, or singing in church or anywhere that there is music, I will almost start crying.

Music is my air.

I struggle to breathe in a world of pollution while someone is slowly strangling me.
Maybe one day I will pry the fingers from my throat and find clean sweet air.