You Go To My Head

By Carole Boston Weatherford

I sang my songs so much
that they became
the soundtrack for my dreams,
the melody of my moods,
a room I lived in,
and a balm for my wounds.

I sang my songs enough
to know them backward
and forward, enough
to wonder if they could lift me
from hometown haunts
to center stage.

I’d sung my songs enough
to think I could take on
Baltimore’s best talent
at the Harlem Theatre
Amateur Hour
and maybe even win.

If you sing a song enough,
it can go to your head that way.

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