Guitar Man | Chris Byrne - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Guitar Man | Chris Byrne

The music was serene in a way,
He ripped the guitar apart
Until his fingers bled
And as the guitar howled
In pain, he heard riffs like never
Before; his fingers were moving
So fast as he was hitting
High notes, he only
Dreamt of years
Ago when he
Got his first
Guitar.

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