Matters of the Heart

April 25, 2011
By TheLadyKate GOLD, Cairo, New York
TheLadyKate GOLD, Cairo, New York
15 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"I'm just a musical prostitute my dear!"


The organ pulsating
in its sturdy, hollow home
was protected by no more
than skin, sinew, and a few rib bones.

Pounding, hammering away;
it had nothing else to do all day,
sitting around in its ivory cage.

It worked 24/7, around the clock;
thump-thump, thump-thump,
tick-tock, tick-tock,
and never once complained.

But that boy,
oh, that boy.
That passionate, joyful,
confident boy.
Well, he had to go and change all that.

The drumming sped up
faster, louder in the ears
when he’d appear
and slow almost to a halt
when he left.

But still,
it worked 24/7, around the clock;
thump-thump, thump-thump,
tick-tock, tick-tock,
and never once complained.

Then, on that fateful day,
the boy decided he was there to stay
and that organ nearly jumped away
in its instant jubilation.

It continued on that way;
an entire lifetime together.

When that boy left,
it wasn’t by choice.
But he grew cold, still,
lost his voice.
But still,
it worked 24/7, around the clock;
thump-thump, thump-thump,
tick-tock, tick-tock,
and never once complained
until the day it, too, had to stop.


The author's comments:
my class had to write a tribute to Maya Angelou, so I decided to borrow her style

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