Standing in
the darkness,
hidden, one
image prevails.
That of a
blemished instrument
whose varnish- chipped
body and fret-less neck
maligns underneath
the unforgiving touch
of the spotlight.
My pseudo stance,
a boisterous opus,
announce
my imperfections,
musical note messages
of never before seen cracks
Reveal my facade.
As I serenade
silent eyes,
A coronation
of tiresome strokes
Show a life
I've always
dreamnt,
honest music
that makes
all eyes speak.
Vibrant rifts
of expression
expose me
as oblique,
born and raised
in the shards
of broken lives,
a tainted song.
Strum, release
A vulnerable
beginning.
melodic tones
Plucked from
worn out strings.
true harmony
unbound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good poem but I'm not sure on how this is suppose to sound like. Like what type of poem is this?