My Guitar

The colour of the countryside
A burnt brown hue
It looks so vintage, yet so modern
Like an antique store filled with treasures

The body is as smooth as glass
But the strings
are
bumpy like a
zipper
It’s hollow, but feels complete
It’s the star in the darkest night time

It sings the note needed, you melt hearing its melody
Only a guitar, a special guitar, can make you feel so happy