Her song

She played me like a violin

And what a sad song she did sing

She promised me the world

But in the end took everything

 

 How many times will I play the same song

While a different musician holds the bow

When her performance ends, they all applaud

But my feelings no one knows

 

I should just shut up and play along

Believe every word I’m told

But I’m not a violin, I am a man

And in her hands

my heart she holds

 

Reviews

[Beka]

I don't believe there is a soul who has not experienced this.
But yet we all do it also.
Everyone has been the woman a time or two.
And of course the man.
Humans are a funny thing.
A living contradiction.
At any rate....
I do enjoy this poem.
Love and music are often twined together.
I loved the way you used a violen though.
Brillant yet again.

[Your Tasty Field Adviso..]

very touching. i love how you put yourself as a violin. it's as if the violin is crying out that it just wants to be one with itself. great poem i love it. :D

[jen]

beautiful and sad.. well written. I enjoyed this .. thanks for sharing it :)