I was caught on something sharp,

now a mess of threads hang loose,

Like strings broken on a harp,

Laying dusty from disuse.

My t-shirt has a fray,

Threads fall where it is undone,

guitar I never play,

Sits abandoned in the sun,

shining through in my den,

I search for needle to sew,

She’s lonely in her pen,

awaiting the circus show.

wish to take her in my arms,

so I do and so I play,

drawn, I am, to her charms,

And to what she longs to say,

I’ll never have her sing,

songs that I would wish to hear,

The harmony she’d bring,

that I want to reach my ear.

I was caught on something sharp.

Now my t-shirt has a fray,

Like strings broken on a harp,

longing once again to play.

Stitched the seam come undone,

guitar watching at the wall,

glows brighter in the sun,

having lifted off the pall,

I took her in my arms,

and gave her a chance to sing,

she fooled me with her charms,

and the harmony she’d bring.

Threads no longer hanging loose,

lonely no more in the pen,

wiped clean the dust of disuse

I stood up and left my den.

***

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