The Cellist, by Will Galzerano

 

In shadows draped, a cellist stood,

Her soul condemned, her spirit subdued.

But in the midst of her somber plight,

She couldn’t help but fumble and lose grip tight.

 

Her bow quivered, her fingers confused,

She played a note, but it came out bemused.

The cello groaned, as if in despair,

“I can’t take it anymore!” it seemed to declare.

 

A damsel damned, with a comical fate,

Each tune she played, left folks laughing, oh great!

The audience chuckled, couldn’t hold their glee,

As she stumbled on stage, playing tunes off-key.

 

Yet she persisted, undeterred by their mirth,

With wobbly grace and questionable worth.

For deep within her, a fire did burn,

Even if her talent took a comical turn.

 

She tapped her foot, counting beats askew,

Her cello wailed, wondering what to do.

But in the midst of all the hilarity,

She found her rhythm, a touch of clarity.

 

Through mistimed notes and jumbled refrains,

She found the joy in her musical strains.

With every missed chord and screeching sound,

She created laughter that echoed around.

 

Her cello chuckled, as if in jest,

While she played a tune, the wrong one at best.

And as she grinned, embracing her flaw,

The audience erupted, demanding an encore!

 

So, remember her tale, the damned cellist divine,

Whose offbeat melodies made the world intertwine.

In laughter and music, she found her true voice,

A symphony of humor, where souls could rejoice.