While reading this poem, it helps to know that I wrote it to the tune of a song. It still works perfectly fine as a poem if you don't wish to hear music behind it, focusing instead on the lines themselves. However, it might help to hear the tune I wrote and formatted these lines to. This poem is to the tune of the verses from "Vienna" by Matt Skiba and the Sekrets. I mean no disregard by using this tune for inspiration, as I sincerely enjoy its simple and catchy heartbreak. Matt Skiba and his band Alkaline Trio are also one of my three favorite acts of all time, so I feel only respect when I borrow the tune of that song for this poem. If you listen to the song's verses just once, you can more easily hear the meter I'm going for with these lines.
August 8, 2019
I wipe the dust away, the statue calls this wasteland Oz
Mandela's finally freed, but more an effect than a cause
The promised land was all a lie, like those three words my dear
Used to lure me from the shadows, leave me stranded way out here
So clearly I remember, in my arms you'd tell the tale
Of fantasies that came to life and caught you like a rail
You fell into their welcome arms, which wouldn't let you go
Like a junkie hunting Wonderland, you ran off through the snow
Just like the sparkle in your eyes, your ruby slippers dimmed
My heart fell like the dead weight from all of the hopes I trimmed
I torched the house and all your things so I could not return
Saved a photograph you gave me once, and let the rest just burn
I wandered through the poppy fields, and smelled their sweet perfume
They brought me to my knees as fast as you did in my room
A good witch showed her hidden power, like lightning took my place
She shuffled off this mortal coil, a smile upon her face
I found the Emerald City, but it was swallowed up by sand
Like Egypt's ancient temples, my dream was ruined and yet grand
No trace of your sweet magic, perhaps the Rapture's come and passed
The quick and dead have moved along, but I'll wander to the last
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