Play the Tendons like Violin Cords in the Cold Night by Bogdan Dragos

Image Source: Snappa

that guitar is useless in

his hands now

He spent over ten thousand

hours playing

It’s all he does, really

He has all the time

in the world

after the accident that

rendered his legs

useless

He sits in bed or in

the wheelchair all day

and plays the guitar

but it’s all useless

He’s lacking the fire

in his eyes

All his songs are the

same song

A sad tune

And the lyrics are all in

his mind

and they’re darker than his

eyes

Colder

The other day his

mother found a

knife in his room,

under the mattress

He said the guitar wasn’t

enough anymore

The guitar was fine so far

because the cords

brought feeling

to his fingers

but now that the fingers

had gone completely numb

with thick skin

he wanted to

pick up the violin

for a change

-BOGDAN DRAGOS

Bogdan Dragos supervises casinos for a gambling company, working twelve-hour shifts locked in a dark office full of TV monitors. There he mostly daydreams and writes poems and stories. He also manages a poetry blog Daydreaming as a profession.

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