Three Strings

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Shrouded by mystery
He plays strange tunes
On a cold night of June
On his cold, old guitar


With his missing three strings
He started to sing
To hum, haunting songs
As if there's nothing wrong


As he taps on the board
Hi fingers delicately
Moving---a beautiful noise
From the out-of-tune guitar


His eyes, in such sorrow
Stares with silent madness
Even joy dances with sadness
That strays tonight, til morrow


He stands and turns away
From this stoned, uncaring place
With all the things he brought today
BUT ONE, he took them all away


Guess what is it he left behind?
Alone, on its own, for someone to find
The man then stopped, to turn and see
The guitar found its way to me


The guitar found its way to me
The guitar found its way to me


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31 - August - 2010
22:12

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