This Poem Needs Tuning

My little finger strains to meet
the string two frets away.

Some chords will never be played.
I have been a novice at this for years.

I concede it is not my gift given, only
an ever-straining desire of the muscles

and that’s okay.  There’s no time
to do everything after all.

And sometimes
winning is a hollow thing.

^{© N Nazir 2021}