My Monday Metrical Musings #52

grayscale photography of boy playing violin

Please son, won’t you play? (Violin Musing I)

What does it feel like
When a dream looks like
It’s about to die?

When something so glorious
Yet deemed by him a weary task
Is about to disappear
Like a puff of smoke
Never again to pass?

I’m not ready to give up this fight
Yet I can sense this fight is on
The verge of giving up on me!

Like that sudden yet gradual calm
Before a storm.
Descending ever so gently like a leaf
Yet determined.
“Don’t fall don’t fall
Don’t you dare!”

I call.
“Give me two more weeks
I beg you
I know I can talk you around.”

You’re still so young
How could you possibly know?
The private tears your old man shed
Each time you make magic
As string meets bow!

“Son!” I wanna say
“My heart you hold
With each trembling note
From first to seventh grade
Don’t you know?

Daddy’s so proud and so ashamed!
Did I force you?
Did I hold ruthless sway?

If you really wanna quit
I must let you
I know.
But one more rung
To grade eight

Please my son
Won’t you stay?

Please my son
Won’t you play

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