The Guitar And The Leather Jacket Poem by Ocklawaha Holt

You pass...
A whisp out of the corner of my eye.
Barely seen.

But I know exactly what you look like.
Messed up hair, a leather jacket that seen better days, and combat Boots falling apart at the seams.

But none of that matters because you have a guitar slung over your shoulder.

A beautiful instrument, but more so are the sounds that come from it at your hands.

You don't know me, but I think I have fallen in love with you, or maybe your music? I dont know it hard to tell sometimes.

I want to speak to you. Tell you how I feel. but your a magical music man and I'm just here for the show.

Maybe in another time. Another place. Maybe never. But it doesn't matter because your guitar chords will haunt my soul forever.