Silent guitar on the wall
voice of passion and stories of the heart.
You are the tool of my youth,
the path to the hearts
of loves once passed
You know my hands better than I,
every motion, my grace, my limits.
You feel the beating of my heart
and the pain of my growth.
But now the notes have faded and the songs forgotten,
all memories replaced by others.
The sounds have subsided to only
tinkering of frustration.
Leading to you to become
The silent guitar on the wall
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 3:47 AM UTC
Silent guitar on the wall
voice of passion and stories of the heart.
You are the tool of my youth,
the path to the hearts
of loves once passed
You know my hands better than I,
every motion, my grace, my limits.
You feel the beating of my heart
and the pain of my growth.
But now the notes have faded and the songs forgotten,
all memories replaced by others.
The sounds have subsided to only
tinkering of frustration.
Leading to you to become
The silent guitar on the wall
Request permission to use this poem