Hints On Instrument Maintenance Poem by Heidi K. Haskell

Panic tightens the delicate strings of the spirit,
Pulling the soul out of tune -
Sharper, shriller, tighter - hear it?
An ill-timed strum snaps, the chord cut too soon.

Worry wears the finish off the heart,
Dull and listless where once was shiny-bright.
Sure, the tune still plays, but sometimes the art
Of the symphony's not only sound, but sight.

Sulking warps the soundboard. Eardrums shatter
When self-importance tries to play the blues.
But no matter what the intonation, nothing's sadder
Than an instrument or heart that sits unused.