Everything Has To Be Right Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The music starts, a heavy strain,
I strive to match the grand refrain.
My notes, they reach, but falter low,
Too fast to catch the master's bow.

Two forces clash, distinct and loud,
One sharp and fierce, one small and bowed.
A winding thread that fears to break,
With every critical mistake.

The fiddles weep, the horns contend,
Two separate minds that will not blend.
A perfect ending won't transcend,
If power structures do not bend.

So pause the pen, let tension mend,
Before the final words descend.
For every sound, when tuned with care,
Can make a song beyond compare.