Satin strings on an iron guitar;
Convulse to produce assorted tones.
Tones so shrill, the pick faints; for malady was
Acknowledged but melody ignored.
Conspicuous and weary these assorted tones,
Yearn for indifference; so they swim;
Across oceans of protruding ears;
In search of arid shores.
On these shores, deaf sharks stay;
Searching for unassuming prey;
But tones are invisible and the sharks can’t hear;
Shore was home; there was nothing to fear.
Submitted by Anonymous A.