The Guitarist

Diving into my old material still

In front oh his apartment he looked up
Feeling the sun radiate to him
He heard a man call him and he ducked
A man carrying a large package into his home that looked dim

The lone guitarist finally sat to rest
There will be no other day like this
He cracks his knuckles and wrist
And balled his hand into a fist

The sun burned his exposed cheek
He smiled with delight
It is he that summer can not defeat
But he hid under the small canopy his building had to hide from the light

He took out his guitar and slowly tuned it
He felt it come alive again with each pluck
The vibrations activated his soul to it
His world realigned again with luck

He finished and aligned his hands
Making sure his first notes were right
To think he had no fans
But never-the-less he always felt alright

He began to strum the early morning
Sitting in a cubical all enclosed
He knew it made his day boring
But strumming made him again exposed

He began to strum his lunch
Listening to people chatter away
Seeing other people sitting in a bunch
Strumming made his seclusion sail away

He began to strum about his meeting
He saw the people day dream
The person sat next to him look like he took a beating
He strummed away taring the memory by it's seam

He strummed his way home
Feeling the alienation of the city take it's toll
His friends failed again to call his phone
He strummed away what his friends didn't do to make himself full

He strummed being here now
He smiled and relaxed his tune
As he saw a little girl watching him holding a cow
He strummed happily again feeling immune

He strummed again seeing her smile
But she was soon dragged away cow doll and all
Her mother said goodbye pleasantly making his happiness last all the while
He strummed pleased to see the dollar

He strummed seeing the dollar in his guitar case
He didn't stop and kept his play
Making the notes play a base
He strummed his guitar finally loving this day