Violin

close my eyes as the violin plays.

The strings releasing such a sorrowed sound.

I can hear the sadness radiating from the wooden instrument.

Cries that seem to tell that of struggle.

A singular tear slides down my cheeks.

I feel my heart grow fonder of the music I hear.

I empathize with this instrument.

The violin is playing that of my own struggle.

My heart aches, my fist clenched to my chest.

My story is being told.