I sleep half the time

       The other half I weep,

                 For things I know,

                        That I can not keep,

Once the sun was warm,

       The wind lifted feathers of hair,

                 And slapped them,

                         Against my cheeks,

 Innocence was youth,

     As where the strings of my heart,

                   Vibrating strong and clear,

                                      Strung together so tight,

 In perfect tune,

     They played their part,

          But I played the wrong songs,

                              I hit the wrong notes,

 I ruined the pitch.

                Of my heart,

           Now I need a tuner,

                           To wind in the slack,

To tune my broken harp,

             So that the wind will sing,

                           The songs of my soul,

    For all to hear,

Hence the sun,

        Will be warm,

               Once again,

                         And so will I,

@JRB

/1/10

                        Tuner needed