Strings

From my parents becoming irate

to the gentle of hum of harmonies vibrate

This one thing can make it all okay

to pick and strum throughout the day

even in the warm nights of June

I find myself a familiar tune 

finally soon I can only know

that there be only one place for me to go

to laugh and play my cares in the fray 

no one can ever take my strings away

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741