A harpist sent a note That felt rather sharp. It left me feeling flat As a worn-out tune. Out of rhythm and sync; Too lento to make the play, I lacked the harmony To counterpoint her melody. Cadenza like, my heart once surged; Now it drums out a dirge. The key to her heart Lay with a noted composer. This heartless rat made her a coda; Turning her into a decomposer.