Six Strings
Black, plastic, with six little strings
Which sing and bring that smile
To her face, every time he plays
That guitar. A smile, once broken
Such a long time ago, by the one
Who played four strings.
My friend asked me what she should write a poem about. I suggested her boyfriend's guitar. (What? It's a kick-ass guitar. xD) Anyhow, she shot the idea down rather quickly. So I said I'd write a poem about it. And she dismissed it.
So I wrote this to spite her. I actually think it's pretty good.
Showing posts with label My Competitive Side. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Competitive Side. Show all posts
Saturday, January 17, 2009
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