Poetry

The Girl and Her Violin

She's a lonely one.

She has nothing,

But an abusive father,

A dead mother,

and scar-like bruises all over her.

She can't smile a real smile.

She can't laugh a real laugh.

She cries herself to sleep at night.

She doesn't have an escape.

It seems like everytime she runs,

She falls into a trap.

She's a dolphin out of water,

A wild wolf that's tied up to a tree.

Where can she go?

How can she get away from all the hurt and pain that haunts her?

When will this horror end?

It won't.

That's why she has a violin.

She plays it through the night,

It's melodic sound ringing in the ears of others,

Crying out her true sorrows.

Her bow slides across the string,

Easing her pain.

It's her anchor.

It's the only way to keep her away from the world and let up everything that hurts.

It's the only way for her to not self harm.

The sound of the violin floats through the air and kisses her wounds.

It heals the pieces of her that she thought she lost.

Her violin is her hero.

It turns all bad things into good.

They are a dynamic duo.

Because without her violin,

She would be nothing,

And without her,

The violin couldn't make a sound as beautiful as the one she makes when she plays it.