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The error of the string is how it weakened
Weary of the tunes that it had born
plucked and picked and nimbly roiled
So it would hum in glee-vibrations
Until it faltered under, then over, its orderly pitch
That is how the lovely thing came to me
Bearing the memory of a lovely hand
To join in loss my heart's commemoration
Wound within its wounds, and tucked away
A fine and sturdy thread, yet practically broken
Never to be touched by her again.
Weary of the tunes that it had born
plucked and picked and nimbly roiled
So it would hum in glee-vibrations
Until it faltered under, then over, its orderly pitch
That is how the lovely thing came to me
Bearing the memory of a lovely hand
To join in loss my heart's commemoration
Wound within its wounds, and tucked away
A fine and sturdy thread, yet practically broken
Never to be touched by her again.
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