Tapping feet, strum the beat imprinted by a scene.
A solemn song sees soles despond, as mood and tunes convene.
Treble in delight, while bass embraces gloom
Feet stampede in melody, composing moment’s tune.
Impatient pounds in song. Intolerance of time.
A line! A Light! Delays in flight! Impart the trudging chime.
Tippy toes, tap chipper blows, in lively disposition.
A state translates to melody, matching life’s editions.
Can’t we tap to counteract the mood upon occasion?
Make our chime? Not fall in line, with the tone from times abrasions?