Me and His Guitar
I am his guitar
I brought him music
He tuned me up
Followed whatever
he wanted me to play
He got me high
and got me low
He brought me into a nice shelter
So that I was kept safe!
He cried to me
when he's in deep pain
He loved me tight when
all he had was joy
Now I'm cracked
my skin is crumpled
My edges are broken
And my strings are cut
Strike through them up and down
hear from me my broken sound
I am his guitar
I am lost
Have forgotten the notes...
I play no song anymore
What is music to me after all?
poem by Luningning Minguez
Added by Poetry Lover
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