Wisdom

Wisdom

 

By Lauren Becherer

Short

bitten

nails,

Sound better      on the

keys.

Stretching     o c t a v e s,

Until you no longer can.

 

You play until

mistakes.

Mistakes

ones

after

another.

Every time start over,

Until there are no more.

 

Wrap them in tape,

But the skin

still slides.

Hiding the blisters,

That               deepen

with every shot.

 

Its there forever.

The        thick       oval of skin.

It shows           dedication,

The struggle                 overcome.

 

With tests every day,

Each nail is

nawed shorter.

Peeled

and ripped,

Until the        cuticle

bleeds.

 

Each nail tries its best to          grow.

They get bitten           shorter          every day.

For         five days         in a row,

two off

Then start all over.

 

These hands have seen

failure.

These hands have seen

stress.

These hands have seen

truth.

These hands have            wisdom.