Roads Of Guitars Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Roads Of Guitars
Laying down alongside melodies as they pretend to be
tired, yet wanting very much to move into skyways of
tomorrow.
Nothing much to take away from them as music picks
them up and sets them silently across roads of guitars
where picking comes to the forefront.
Hoping to settle down, never fighting for a place in
the sun, knowing there's always a sphere where they
can crash for the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 10:25:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
