Winning Hurts When Nothing Matters

When you try it for the first time…
And tender fingers caress, lovingly touch
Almost hesitantly, and the strings
Meet the fingerboard

And there is no music, no music,
Because you haven't held hard enough
But you know you've tried, you've tried...
But life isn't about trying, no matter whatever she says.

Oh, she is supportive, caring; and when you slip into the room
After working late again and you're crying
In the dark because the money does not care whether you work at all,
And loves only your fortune, your fortune.
She'll tell you're wrong, that you only need to try.

She doesn't know, she doesn't know, that actually holding the strings
Down hard enough isn't the same as trying,
That once the music sounds, you're a winner and the losing days of trying are over for good.
You won't tell her she's wrong,
That you only need to win.

A loser touching, trying, the strings, and his fingers
Are still tender and soft like they've always been.
She doesn't know, your fingers don't need consoling
Or any kind of comfort, they are only trying fingers
That are too soft and don't make music.

Perhaps she knows, that by the time you're through trying
And have begun to win, just begun to win,
Your fingers are cut and bleeding, raw
Is oozing through tender skin. You're hurting,
You're hurting and that's when you need the comfort.
When you have just begun to win.

But she's there now, to soothe away the vague pain
Of tender fingers, and she doesn't care whether you tried
Or made it, whether you're bleeding or unhurt, because it doesn't matter.
And what the hell, it really doesn't matter
When the guitar is broken
And forgotten.

Sravana R., 16
Bangalore, India

* Reprinted from Positive Teens Magazine Volume 4 Issue 1, Jan/Feb 2002

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