Robert James Liguori Poet Free verse

The Guitar Pick

It's never been so hard, to play my friend the blues,
It's never been so hard, to play my friend the blues,
Though right beside him I did sit,
I played out all the tunes.

Every day he got much weaker, with pain upon his face,
Every day he got much weaker, with pain upon his face,
I sung the blues with deliverance,
Praying to change his fate.

I let go of my guitar pick, it's in a special place,
I let go of my guitar pick, it's in a special place,
This pick was always with me, but with life it couldn't wait.

This beast they called the cancer, ravaged my dear friend,
This beast they called the cancer, ravaged my dear friend,
His soul and spirit were soon released,
His weakened body came to end.

The bugler played behind us, the soldiers folded the flag,
The bugler played behind us, the soldiers folded the flag,
One by one, we laid our flowers,
For a soldier, my friend, my dad.

I let go of my guitar pick, it's in a special place,
I let go of my guitar pick, it's in a special place,
This pick was always with me, but with life, it couldn't wait.

2018

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Julie Little November 16, 2021 at 12:15 AM Beautiful! In a melancholic way. My husband plays and we both write songs. You should put this to music. I am surprised that I am your first comment. I think that most people do not realize how hard it was to say goodbye to your dad, but also how hard it is to say goodbye to playing. Hopefully, you can find your inspiration again someday. Never give up on letting your emotions flow so beautifully as they flow from the hands of a man and his guitar. Good luck! Jewlz