Some People

There are those who only hear music    
Everywhere they go    
Sounds that the world is playing    
Or squeaky door slams    
Everything is just a jam    
   
Painters brush their art on walls    
Anything is a canvass    
As they entice    
Netherworld observers    
Poised to be seen  
Posing    
   
Perhaps those who write wills of their way    
Where there's so much to be sniffed at    
Falling in and out of heads    
Trying to catch cold    
On the verge of ruthless    
At least some people  
Take hold   
   
Capture of life    
With each wonder    
That heart breaks    
Cello weeps    
Broad sweeps    
Mind leaps
Death creeps    
   
Making up and over    
Where each will go from here    
The legacy is clear    
I refuse another cheap rhyme    
Like any other time    
For me to go is near    
   
As the white lights    
Mystic sights    
Riders    
Cacophony    
Splash    
I color myself in    
   
This is the purpose of my visit