the guitarist.

10 Oct

you taught me how to strum and pick.
you were passionate and patient, ever so ready.
you filled a void in my life, you let me into the world of rock and roll.

you made me a lullaby.
one that i might not hear again.
it was soft and soothing, able to let me sleep.
i first heard it against the sound of the sea.

our time together was short.
maybe i could tell my kids i fell in love with a guitarist.
even though it was never meant to be.

i like to listen to you.
watch you as you so intently try to get everything  correct.
even when everything else was in shambles,
it was easier to have an outlet that was not smoking or drinking.

so whenever i pick up a guitar, it brings me to a moment
of pure innocence and happiness.
of staring into the blue sky and wishing for time to stand still.


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