A song unsung,
Music notes drawn on pages
for sale but never sold.
Tried not to care but the tears won’t lie;
They dissolve my mask and expose what I hide.
I am a pen full of ink with an enduring hope,
A determined climber on a shredding rope.
My mouth parts expelling a soulful song,
But it hangs in my throat and comes out wrong.
Still, I strive, giving it all I got;
A failure I might be, but quitter I am not.
© D.L. Lunsford