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Only an Instrument
I am only an Instrument.
A means to an end
A paper and pen
A guitar in a band.
An answer to a question.
An instrument. By definition a tool
meant to be used.
Yup, that's me.
An instrument.
Something not prone to emotion
something not meant to think
Something not meant to have an opinion
an instrument.
Someone who is not meant to speak
someone not meant to hear
Someone not meant to question
Someone not meant to do anything but
Listen.
For I am an instrument.
Implented to be used by you.
To help you.
To make everything easier for
You.
But never once have I
been given an instrument
Someone willing to be used.
Someone willing to be ignored.
Someone willing to stand there and say
Yes ma'am
No ma'am
Of course ma'am
Right away ma'am.
Only I speak those dreadful words.
Only I am used.
Because I am
Only an Instrument
A means to an end
A paper and pen
A guitar in a band.
An answer to a question.
But what happens if...
There is never an end
The paper rips
and the pen runs out of ink
The strings on the guitar pop.
The question is unanswerable
Well you don't know do you?
Because I did everything?
I was everything.
I still am everything.
But to you I was only an instrument...
And now you don't know
What to do with out me....
