Pianotech Poetry

[Sarah Fox]

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Awww... come on.  I'd probably revise a few of the lines, but it's not =
my poem.

I liked it. :)

Peace,
Sarah
  ----- Original Message -----=20
  From: Scott Pickett=20
  To: Pianotech=20
  Sent: Thursday, March 20, 2003 2:26 PM
  Subject: Re: Pianotech Poetry


  Keep your day job....
    ----- Original Message -----=20
    From: Robert Goodale=20
    To: pianotech@ptg.org=20
    Sent: Thursday, March 20, 2003 10:39 AM
    Subject: Pianotech Poetry


    Poetry for piano technicians?  Why not, somehow I just got inspired =
I'm not sure why.  Here is my first, what do you think?  Keep my day =
job?  Perhaps some of you can relate to the topic.

    Rob Goodale, RPT
    Las Vegas, NV


    Betsy's Cry=20
    By Rob Goodale, RPT

    She cries for an echo, a ghost.
    History's crude humor, the final insult.

    Fleece the fair passed by,
    Weak from the head, soft but without purpose.

    Should have been the box from which she came.
    The most critical was not rejected, begs for more.

    Newton's dream, gravity without weight.
    Her input loose, compromises to the side.

    Not of wood, an unnatural element.
    Broken and crumbled, her children now silent.

    Slips away, her voice lost to friction and time.
    The steel now stolen, the gift lost.

    The savior is called and discriminates.
    Hours go by, she remains silent but hopeful.

    Moment of truth, will she breath?
    She coughs and sighs, tired eyes open.

    Exhausted and regret, the servant collects.
    The apprentice now sits and begins self torture.

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