don't fret
about those fraying strings
those mislaid notes
old fingers clamoring to strike a
familiar or agreeable chord
but these pangs go beyond dissonance
or percussionary use of strings
or acceptable creative liberties
and the sharp notes keep wailing
piercing the air around them
and the flat notes howl
louder than the
silence that precedes death
-- until that treble clef unfurls
and becomes
a straight
black
line.
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