While My Guitar Gently Bleeds.

While My Guitar Gently Bleeds Eeee's



Ignoring the

anguish of my heart,
in the wee hours of mourn,
I tend to the frets

of my old friend.

Fingers pressing spun

gold now tarnished
by the abscence of

your soprano sighs,
its sound hole

echoes memories,
while my guitar

gently bleeds

G's for the sorrow

of your passing,
a C of tears stands

between us,
I cannot find my

way to B alone.
our harmonius chord

of love now frayed
all that was tightly

wound undone.

So I hug my once

standing Ovation,
its smooth round

body much like yours
and find comfort

in its embrace,
hourglassed against me,

time erodes,
as I give voice

to my pain.


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