Plucking the strings
Notes circulate the walls
Echoing endlessly
Playing again
The Melody rises and falls
The notes live in harmony
But the fingers slip
Sliding past the metallic chord into the air
But with such grace redeems itself
With the deceived hidden imperfection
Crowd applauds
Admiring an outward dillusion
The sound ain't right
There is a missing note
Without it the chord is never complete
--Screwed
It's nice, but either it's just me, but maybe it could sound more rhythmic
Hmm I guess. This is one of my poems that doesn't really rhyme so I guess I was trying to achieve something more than just a rhyme skeme on the outside.