Sunday, February 26, 2012

the guitar sings




The guitars stand near the wall
It never weeps for any one
It stays there with itself
Listening to the tales

Of years gone by
The strumming sound feel the air
The melodies of honey coated songs
Now it stands by the wall

The guitar strings maybe rusty
In the open under the shade
Life once was good
The music it played to entertain people

Now it opens its eyes
The strings coming back to live
The strumming can be heard
The guitars sweep the lonely days away

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