I Gave My Guitar Away

Adam Blowers

I gave my guitar away—
the one I used to strum
in our living room,
the one which you had once swung
swiftly over my head.
I gave it away.

But the chords are still ringing,
plucked gently in my head,
the song stays the same.
I bought a new one, and though
I sleep in a new bed,
the chords still ring out.

Off-beat percussions hitting
the body and the odd
dents in the headstock,
all the high frequency screams
for silence, with the sharp
scratches down my neck.

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