I’m alone in this world
Looking pale and growing old
Playing sad notes with my guitar
Locked up in my chamber
No place to go
No one to see
These chords became my friendsWith a pen in my hand
I am writing lyrics no one will read
Composing music never to be heard
Four walls became my prison
No friendly face
No one to trust
These chords became my enemies
© living in verses
Loneliness does spark poetic creativity and this beauty of a poem stands as witness…
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Such heartwarming words, thank you, it really means a lot!
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Most welcome 🙂
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I’ve played plenty of sad notes on my guitar…sometimes you can’t get it right. Great poem.
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Thank you very much!!
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