i'm looking at my violin
thinking of music within
i pick up bow did stroke
loud enough to be heard
scattered melody; noise
as of now better; my voice
i feel like walking on string
every step a note to begin
if i could piece them together
music could burst to clear
for now appreciation i give
to those gifted with octave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem