Rusty Red Guitar
By Riwaj T
Published 30 July 2019
Just a rusty, red, ringing guitar,
From a busty, dread, tune shop not far,
Bought for sixty, not so thrifty,
But good enough for a song played quickly.
But this instrument, although an increment,
To me is special, a gift, a talisman,
As the chords it rings, notes it sings,
Cures my troubled head to the brim,
Ridding the grim,
Enlightening the dim,
Oh, the doings of just six strings.
Frivolous joy ringing freely from me,
As I come home to see what really brings glee,
I drop everything and dash like bolt,
Run my fingers down, then halt,
To realise that I’m so lucky,
As when I’m sad and when I’m lonely,
I’ll always have this rusty, red guitar beside me.