Flute

No ornate strings

to tame the day's melody

No drum-skin stretched par limits

to beat the malady of the mundane

No metals clanking

to unhear the hoarseness of life 

Just a few holes 

punched across a reed

And the soul is made 

to wind through it

The disarming simplicity

so life-like

The song of unbecoming

only a flute can sing