A Cello Plays

A Cello Plays I’m sad tonight because I sit alone in my chair The sound of a cello plays softly in the background The music is sad like me, as it plays alone, filling the air I wonder if it feels the pain of the hands that play it Does it understand that its sound is also a cry of passion? As the bow touches the strings, the melody laments for someone Mourning, grieving, the bow plays the cello with strength driven from agony An agony it doesn’t fully understand except for what the performer expresses With great care, she holds the cello and escapes into the music filling the night The flow is smooth, sorrowful, as it leaves the room eerie and haunted in loneliness A broken piece, the strings bind it together, like a sulking lullaby Alone it waits to be played, gathering dust as the days drag on A dark corner becomes its new home And all the cello knows of is solitude, anguish, and tears From the hand that held the bow, playing till she bled That’s all it was taught to play, only to never be played at all. Written by: Jennifer Maupin June, 2011