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A sign leaning against a guitar in a pawn shop inspired this sonnet. |
| The Blues Guitar The old guitar hung on the pawn shop wall patiently waiting for a blues man's touch. Tuned and so ready to answer the call, pick scratched body, scarred from strokes played with such passion and joy or endless pain and tears in all those honky tonks for all those years. Cigarette burns darken the neck to show neglect of another blues man who wailed between sips of beer. Only those who know, only those who've cried, only those who've failed can pierce the soul with sharpened words, well aimed. "Oh, I lost love or was unfairly blamed." A sign below it, braced by ballet shoes "If it ain't been pawned... It can't play no blues." |