Author Information
Untitled
I set the waist of my guitar softly
On my knee and caress the frets with the
Waste of my thoughts. How mournful is the sound
As it tumbles past but does not mix with
The longing for the laughter once again.
The chords I play to lift the spirit rise
Not in the jubilation that I heard
Somewhere but in the lamentation for
The loosing of the laughter in the dust.
So wail now strings for I am dry of tear
And need to note the sadness of my soul
As it searches the rubble of my thoughts
Of those longing for the laughter gone away.
Now this is fantastic. I loved every word, feeling, and image this conjured to my mind's eye. Soulful. The last stanza is magnificent!!!