Playing

My fingers on the strings, Pressing on the frets. My mind gets off of other things and I forget my bets. I strum a chord and think to myself, could I ask for anything more? Than to sit to myself, my worries on the shelf, to not think of anything else. My guitar in hand, I strike up the band, I sing my song. I think it won't be long, before I belong to something better than this. I'm snapped from my thought, I listen intently, I strum again gently, that doesn't sound like it ought. I suddenly drift back into my thought, I picture you here, calling me dear. Telling me it's not the end of the world, just because I missed one chord.