Poet's Guitar

A Poem by Gilbert Saint

Its about the music we choose to listen to and how we let it affect us.

Poet's Guitar.

What's in this music we listen to,
Is there something we hope to find? Or maybe its just to fill our minds.
What are the things it fuels in us?
Which passions does it satisfy, because we can't see it with our eyes nor touch it by our hands.
Maybe if I put it in words, you realize what I'm rhyming toward.

I'm searching the earth round for a quantum of solace,
My footsteps none shall trace, I was hoping to wipe myself from this earth's face.
But in music, I moved to another phase.
I realized it fed my anger, my disparity, but at times it made me praise.
A combination of words and beats, it may lead you to your rightful place, or to something you will never embrace.

You may pluck the strings of a guitar,
Beat the hide of the rum, or using your mouth you may hum.
You may blow into a trumpet, or breathe into a flute.
But what does the sound do to you?, Will it help when obstacles rise against you?
He made it and said its perfect, it will destroy or correct,
But none it makes perfect.
That all depends, on how you use this gift that's perfect.