Painful Guitar

He came in with a guitar and a frown
Singing songs of sadness and pain
I couldn’t keep from coming around
I cried through his efforts and had to remain

He mentioned a girl he once knew well
Speaking past tense I knew his loss
Never mentioning their breaking hell
But his tongue was tied with the cost

He hinted that he had a loved brother
Without a name he ached to forget
Pretending it was no matter one way or the other
Tears rolled out his confessions and regret

The bar was silent as he played his dirge
Mystified at his guitar and vocal skill
But details he held and would not purge
His music deflected what he tried to kill

All his emotion was in his fingertips
Blues and rhythm with no telling word
Throats were clogged by his singing lips
But the answers he held were never heard

I went quite often to his one man shows
Seeking a change or new details of pain
Leaving with the same tears and woes
Always the sadness returns as I remain

He is telling us all of the woes of his life
Giving us what he feels that he can
Holding back on what he can’t endure
He’s a sad, melancholy sort of man

Barbara Blackcinder


About Barbara Blackcinder

I am a poet/writer with a need for words. There are so many out there that I haven't used yet. They define all reality and mine when you read those from me.
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