The Broken Violin

In the rear of a local antique shop.
Sitting on an old wooden shelf,
Was a box old and worn.
Somewhat tattered and torn.
Alone and all by itself.

The shop was full of all kinds of things,
Some rare and other just debris.
It's hard to stand out,
When your left without,
A proper self-image and dignity.

People walked by and never even tried
To see what may lie within.
They'd pick and choose,
Often refuse
Didn't care or know where to begin.

One day an old man in search of treasure,
Spied the box and decided to peek in.
Once he eyed,
What was inside,
It produced a most heartfelt grin.

For there in a bed of faded old paper,
Laying prouder that it had ever been,
Was a worn instrument,
A forlorn embellishment,
Of an old bow and broken violin.

It was fairly well kept, comfortable where it slept,
It had obviously once been well used.
Along with other things,
It was missing some strings.
With TLC it could be brought back almost new.

God's gifts are funny, they don't need much money,
Just attention and sincere tender care.
Given a chance,
A life's enhanced,
Redemption takes concern, love and prayer.

The man took the box home and tendered his gift,
He had a delicate soothing touch.
It didn't take long,
To produce a sweet song,
From this fellow that had suffered so much.

Some folks live their lives and never realize,
Their potential and God given worth.
They sit on some shelf,
Never motivate themselves,
Their destiny pre-determinded at birth.

In some old shop one might pause and stop,
Take the time to help out a fellow man.
It doesn't take much,
To reach out and touch,
Those that may need a helping hand.

The old man learned to play, and brighten folks day,
With his new social partner and friend.
Most people say,
He relishes the day,
He found his treasure in an old broken violin.





Copyright © November 2009
Kevin Mooney

km001
111109