Finishing a Poem
I wrote this poem about six months ago but I never really did finish it. For six months, it sat on my desktop with only its "Part 1," because I had no idea how this poem would end.I had the urge to finish it today. Turns out, "Part 2" is just one stanza.
Cheers.
At The Music Store
One day you passed by my display case
While I sat there scratched and untuned
You stopped and stared at the weathered paint on my face
A fading red varnish like a newly dried wound
I looked at your eyes and I saw a question who's answer you sought
And I wanted to speak and explain what was true
But that old ribbon of horsehair was no longer taut
The stick that held it straight was broken in two
For the last that came by took me out of my case
And took my bow and played me with all haste
I played all her music both soft and wild
I played to her beat and gave her whatever she desired
And in my effort to give her my all
I allowed her to play so hard and so hard did I fall
A couple of strings snapped but I thought it was okay
It was her and she was going to take me home anyway
But I guess I was wrong, I was badly mistaken
For she threw me down and I hit the floor broken
My face was badly scratched and my bridge became bent
And without a word, she turned around and away she went
So here now I sit in my display case
Looking up and staring at your face
Wishing I could have still been able to play
And show you that we could make wonderful music if it was another day
But that day might never come for it did take a while
And during that time, another one made you smile
So now that I'm here, fixed and ready to play
I turn and see that you've chosen him and happily gone away
posted by The Little Man on the Soapbox @ 12:12 AM
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