Gabriella Franco Poems
The Touch Of The Master's Hand
’Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
“What am I bidden, good folk? ” he cried,
“Who’ll start the bidding for me?
“A dollar—a dollar—then two, only two—
“Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?
“Going for three”—but no—
From the room far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loosened strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel ...
You Quit On Me
My life was just an open book to you
I told you everything, I trusted you
I can't believe you lie to me
you use me, I see it clearly
I didn't know it would come to this
You became obsessed, after that 1st kiss
You left me for him, I knew it'd happen
We used to joke around, now nobody's laughin
Best friends, you said to me that one Sunday