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I sit here straight face
While my heart starts to race
May be dry eyed
While you lied.
I was playing for keeps
But now my guitar gently weeps
Lonely life in a lonely land
I tried to understand
So now alone I sleep
While my guitar gently weeps
Looking at tomorrow
Don't need such sorrow
The days are empty to me
Nothing as far as I see
Now my alarm beeps
As my guitar gently weeps

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 10/11/2019 10:29:00 PM
There is an undercurrent of joy in this poem my friend.
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Harris Avatar
W.P. Harris
Date: 10/12/2019 8:19:00 PM
There has to be. Thanks