The first one
was the first one he broke.
Snapped it right into two,
out of anger.
The third one
was lost on a subway,
after he had one
too many drinks at the bar.
The fourth
was thrown out the window
because he couldn’t stand
the heartbreak.
The fifth
was donated
to a poor boy in the dark alleyway
in the depths of the city.
The sixth
was burned because he thought
a family of spiders had burrowed
inside the strings.
The seventh
was swept away by the wind,
off the train, in fact,
as he made his way
to visit his mother.
The eighth
was carefully crafted
with young love
that had such a promising future.
Now the second one,
you wonder,
what happened
to the second fiddle?
But, alas, my dear
I must tell you,
this man did not want
to create a fiddle
with a missing partner.
The number two
suggests a pair,
like a pair of shoes
or a pair of earrings.
And he did
not want to create
something so utterly
hopeless.
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I'm sorry Wattpad keeps double spacing everything, I know I'm getting fed up with it too.
I wish there was something I could do, but alas. I am only the writer.
I hope all my readers are staying fabulous.
Love you guys :)
