Guitar, or Music

Trying to get away from the two,
their uses are futile.

Darling it has been many years since,
I first met you,
and how young I was.

I catch myself laughing of the thought of when I first strummed your hair.

Had I known of the pain,
If I had known that your love was not as I thought.
My love was young.

I cry when I think of how I miss you.

Darling I would break if I was not with you,
if I couldn't hear your voice,
and mine coincide in perfect harmony.

Darling I loved you,
and because of my love for you,
I was loved by another.

My love for you is futile,
I find no pleasure when you are around,
as I find no pleasure in thoughts of hell.

But the pain lingers in my mind,
as do your songs,
and I curse at the thought.

You made me who I am,
sculpted me.
As if Leonardo gave you a diagram.

Everyday I fight your thoughts away,
fighting my heart,
and it is a pain I am willing to live with if you are gone.

The End

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