a chord that lost its Tune…


Though I am a mere guitar, to those who are seeking comfort
I become a saint a player of harmony a tool of destruction but yet still positive
Killing negativity that the heart thought was the only narrative
And although i have yet to be played
Though in this case i have stayed
I know one day, i will be held i will have the best view on stage
Making children, teenagers and adults alike smile
Though made of wood and metal it feels like a lifestyle
And so the day came, i was picked i was overjoyed i was finally being held
He was rusty yes, his form alittle lackluster but i knew with him we be unparalleled
A force to be reckoned with but not through fear but joy that could shed tears
Could be used in a crowd, being played so loud and our sound a souvenir was happy
Then the time came frustration built and inside i could feel his exterior guilt
Radiating like the sun i first felt on my sheen but instead, on being bright it was gloomy
I no longer became an instrument but a nonrent paying roomie
I one day hope that while i stand in the corner, watching him play and laugh cry
Though my sound hasn’t been heard in years he will give me another try
So i can make him feel like the way he felt when he was young and when my neck was to big
He struggled to reach but god knows he practiced in hope to be in gigs
So To my user, my wielder the warrior who held me like a weapon of peace
i’ll be here rooting silently though i was i could make a sound to know i want to be your showpiece
Good luck my owner may your days be long and true
Cause even after am gone i will miss you...

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