Broken Guitar

for Victoria

Am I of any worth to the hands
Of a maestro?
Scarred, thrown down,
I’m broken
Can I ever utter a beautiful sound?
Will anybody listen to a broken guitar?

Hear me plucked, hear me strummed
Will I be in union with a golden voice?
Or do I offer nothing but noise?
Oh Maestro, will you ever pick me up?

You see through the scars—
the heart of a broken guitar
But you pluck this strings
You strum.
Together, we sing melodies deeper,
Sweeter than angel’s voices.

I am more than
just a broken guitar---
I am the maestro’s
guitar.