Laura Arnold

My First Guitar

Filled with years but beautiful,
Emotions run deep, overwhelmed
Black with white trim, middle a chestnut color of liveliness
A dusty aroma of neglect
In my room, peaceful, relieving
Loving chords, penetrating the soul
Sweet taste of satisfaction
Actually playing a real song, sounding good, everyone wanting to hear

Poem Submitted: Monday, February 12, 2007
Poem Edited: Thursday, January 13, 2011

Add this poem to MyPoemList

Rating Card

4,5 out of 5
2 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about My First Guitar by Laura Arnold

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?