My Guitar

I feel as if I'm on a journey,
Escaping into my own world.
I let my emotions revolve around me,
Circling forever on end.
I pluck away,
My fingers have escaped from my control,
And as I brush my hand down the neck, tingles go down my spine.
The opaque strings quiver while the hollow body echoes,
Vanilla wood grain purrs and harmonises with joy.

My fingers impel four frets down,
Shimmer the wires, causing a bend.
All pain is gone and peace fills its gaps.

It can take me anywhere without paying a fare,
Sets me free for only myself to see,
Holds my deepest secrets,
My past and my present.
Soon it will hold my future.