![]() e stringA Poem by m.s.earlyBeing a guitar string, I am a note when strung lightly doesn't judge too much. I wish myself a poem sometimes, but I am only one string praying not to snap. My brothers and sisters E, A, D, G, and B are gone now, Lost in a passionate riff (hot times long ago). I am the high E being learned to play by a child. Having never been a child I don't understand that his purity will not be lost by tuning too tight. He finds melody in my singularity one note at a time. He finds the sweet note when he is alone, and his eyes are closed, and his teeth are clenched, and his mind is clear, and his heart is full of blood. A child with a message and a song is taking me to a street where no one notices one string, just his voice and I, one note at a time. As we go, I sense his changes. He down tunes me and changes the key. As he gets older I get hard like a stone, and he gets soft like water. I rest in a velvet case. He changes the world.
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Added on March 4, 2014Last Updated on March 4, 2014 Author![]() m.s.earlyVAAbout"A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep." -Salman Rushdie more..Writing
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