April 15th, 2014
At first glance,
It’s beaten, battered, and broken,
Unworthy of a second chance.
With pale, beige keys,
But has a tone like an August breeze,
Much could be learned
From this deceitful mastermind.
The human eye
Judges what it takes in
Before we give it an optimistic try.
Their keys are just broken,
Strings- weak and frail,
Perhaps afraid of what’s humanely spoken
From those who prevail.
Before you gossip nonchalantly,
Think of what it’s like to be
Misunderstood or mistaken
Like the aging instrument
That teaches something purely magnificent.