The Musician

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I once discovered a young Musician
Whose simple songs were her own creation.
Though she was quiet and misunderstood,
Her music revealed her every mood.
On days when anger raged within
Her fingers flew with fury upon her violin.
And on those gloomy days when depressed and low,
She would play a somber melody with a slow and heavy bow.
And when she played her face filled with light,
Her eyes shined like stars on a cloudless summer night.
For she played for herself, not merely to impress
Her motive I admire and my life she has blessed.





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