My family is an antique violin

Made tenderly by a master hand

Scratched and worn by time

Creating rich tunes from a simple wooden bow

My mother is the body, worn but strong

A support binding the rest of us together

She catches the sounds we exhale

And echoes them with a greater tone

My father is the bow, crucial and powerful

Who pulls a full, dark stroke from our strings

The hair loosens and tightens with his mood

Each fine quality enhances the song

We are the strings: G, D, A, and E

Working together to create melodies and harmonies

Sometimes we need to be tuned

But all can be restored with love