If only I, too,

could be quickly tuned.

I would have been the happiest, and by far.


Alas, I’m not an innocent guitar.


My worn out strings can’t possibly be replaced.

The stains in my core can’t ever be erased.


I’m crushed by my burdens, a whole repertoire!


Jaded, woeful, ruined…

No, I can’t be tuned.