oyster poem

juvenile strings plucked timely,
ingenious bopians and zhijias scraped,
array of sounds blindy?
yet not so the "long" swerved,
under the suona would all these be covered?

random it may seem,
onward it still went (even though maybe gan pai)
carried by the wind crensenting on,
keeping in mind the go(a)l(d) ahead
so we survived! we made it!

some say its a fluke,
oblivious to reality.

do these people ever stop,
open their eyes for once to listen for once?

u cant hear the music, you feel the music.

(so what if no honours, still improvement ok!)

oyster