I strum The Baritone Strings.

The noise is grating my ears.

It sounds horrible.

I strum again, and again.

Hoping to find a rhythm.

I fail to find that rhythm

And I am frustrated.

My fingers trailed on the strings,

Over and over again.

The Baritone is not my friend.

I rest the Baritone on its round end.

Tilted against my thigh.

I sigh in defeat.

I lay the ukelele in its case.

Where it now lays in the corner, waiting for a finger to lay upon its case.

I calmly lay down on my bed.

Looking back at the case.

Knowing I put hundreds of dollars away.

I sigh once more, and close my eyes for a better day.