The Last Violin

I have a story in my head about a violin, but not just any violin…

The Last Violin.

I’m not sure why I’m drawn to sad stories, but I do notice more of my drawings have frowns than smiles. Violins are also sad, so the pairing is synomous with sadness. I suppose the blue book cover doesn’t make this any happier.

This story will come to life when its ready, but for now, I’m sharing a short poem for my readers.

Is it the last song you will ever play?

Or will you find a place to hide away?

A feeling of sadness over comes me.

I regret finding you in the canopy.

Is it my duty to dust you off?

Or should I just let you be?

The last violin still has a song in its heart,

But I don’t know where to start.

Tomorrow sounds better, don’t you agree?

I prefer to have a cup of tea.

But the last violin calls upon me.

Like a whisper from the sea.

I return, reluctantly,

It’s still there, waiting patiently.

I dust it off and tune the strings.

G, D, A, and E, it plays beautifuly.

The last violin?

It might very well be,

But many songs are still within me.

Is the glass half empty or half full? Or are we leaning towards pessism or optimism? Is there hope?

I think so, but we have to work hard to look at life differently, even when we’re down, and still get a kick from an unexpected unfortunate circumstance.

What’s the point then?

The point is to keep going, keep trying, don’t ever give up on your hopes and dreams.

Pick up your last violin, dust it off, and play.

The world is waiting.