I am a guitar string.
I vibrate,
And oscillate
To the tune of brain chemistry
And self-caused travesty.
But all in a soundproofed room
Where the waves can't get through.

Or perhaps I'm a shoelace.
I am worn,
And torn
By walking
And falling.
But on the shoes of me
That tread where others don't see.

Maybe I'm thread.
I am overlooked
And caught on a hook
By me, who I clothe
And also loathe.
But I am sometimes noticed,
Only when I seem broken.

I could be cable.
I am insulated,
And in a tangled state
By design,
To stay online.
But my insides can hurt,
With malice I flirt.

What if I'm a line of code?
I dictate,
And equate,
For those who request
I am put to the test.
But I'm in need of an update,
Otherwise I'll break.

A string I might be,
But I couldn't care less
As long as I have some utility.