Pluck
You pluck and you pluck,
my strings getting weaker,
sounding stronger,
working harder to maintain the tension
you try to impress.
I struggle at first,
as you use your pick
to elongate,
resonate,
integrate every one of my notions into something wonderful.
I won’t let you abuse me,
but you never do.
You care for me,
handle me well,
buff me and polish me until I shine,
shimmer like the words you spoke never could.
And you still can’t sing.
You try -
oh, how you try -
but you know to let me be your voice,
and the message is the same
as it was several months ago,
as it was yesterday.
It just sounds a bit different,
a bit more poised.
As you sing through my voice, others listen, others stop,
but as you use me, it is I who am most impressed.
The dents in your fingers tell a different story still,
but it will never matter as much as I do to you,
and you to me.
Let our voices, in one, ring.
my strings getting weaker,
sounding stronger,
working harder to maintain the tension
you try to impress.
I struggle at first,
as you use your pick
to elongate,
resonate,
integrate every one of my notions into something wonderful.
I won’t let you abuse me,
but you never do.
You care for me,
handle me well,
buff me and polish me until I shine,
shimmer like the words you spoke never could.
And you still can’t sing.
You try -
oh, how you try -
but you know to let me be your voice,
and the message is the same
as it was several months ago,
as it was yesterday.
It just sounds a bit different,
a bit more poised.
As you sing through my voice, others listen, others stop,
but as you use me, it is I who am most impressed.
The dents in your fingers tell a different story still,
but it will never matter as much as I do to you,
and you to me.
Let our voices, in one, ring.