If A Guitar Can Remember
the songs that have been played
as it’s neck was tickled
and it’s belly was rubbed
those at the pawn shop have nightmares
of too much Beatles
or Dylan
the new ones are tortured with scales
or sloppy renditions of
Wish You Were Here
and Metallica riffs
but somewhere out there
covered in stickers and blood
my blood
there is a guitar that remembers
mostly
songs of mine
songs of
ours
i will never forget that guitar
and
i hope
it will never forget me
