[Old and Unreadable] Max's Thought-Provoking Poetry

Unjust Melody

There are times when you hit
The quintessential note
Inside, the cogs turn
One's feeling evoked
For an instrument is a fragile thing, but so are the musicians
So weak and fragile, they have no intuition

In the daylight, the instrument oozes normality
It's dusty strings or worn pipes
Bare no surface-born calamity
In the afternoon, it dims in the light
But this is nothing
Compared to what it feels in the night

As darkness ensues, so does the sound
The reverberation finally felt
From that note spoke out loud
And the instrument shatters, it's ornate frame;
The note hit home
Even though it was only a game

See, musicians never understand
The notes they strike
The wrong thing said
Can turn out the light
A light born from hope, happiness, and a dream
All gone, it's quite obscene

The instruments cannot defend themselves
From the notes struck inside of them
An imbalance of power
Is where all problems stem
Therefore, it falls to the musicians, to control their song
To identify the imbalance, and right their wrongs

Are you a musician or an instrument?
See that boy in the school grounds
You, the one who they laugh at, or are you the one who laughs
If you love happiness and peace
If you are a believer
A true one, to the core, then your answer will be neither