The Violin
Once there was music
And then there was none
The violin's
Journey was done
She shattered into
A million bits
And nothing they did
Could ever fix it.
The violin
Until her death
Cried with
Her every breath
But only her music,
The world chose to hear,
When she went out of tune
The world didn't care.
No one played her strings
In her last years of life,
They put her away ,
Left her music to die.
Her music which
Once filled the air
Had left a silence
Too loud to not hear
And everyone
Then missed her songs
To which they never
Sang along
But everyone wanted
To play her once more
When she lay in pieces
Upon the cold floor.
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