She is a violin with no strings,
With stagnant silence wrapped around her
Its sweaty fingers clasped tightly over her lips
Her bow was snapped in half long ago
The fibers shredded, her once-warbling soul
Might as well be dead.
She sees the cellos dancing with their bows, creating melodies so sweet
And she frantically tries to escape the binds
But she can't find the courage, and
She doesn't know how to sew herself together again
Her shiny coating is going dim
And she has jumped to the conclusion
That she will never be fixed
A girl hanging from the wall, watching
The other amber instruments being plucked and played
While she is useless, a voiceless violin.
YOU ARE READING
Jars of Stars
RandomThis is a collection of the poems I've typed up on my iPad. I've noticed I enjoy incorporating nature and space into my poetry, so if you dig nature and space read my poems! Some of them are dark, some are brighter, some rhyme and some are just word...
