The Old Guitarist

by | Mar 12, 2015 | Poetry | 0 comments

One more tune and the world is gone.

One more tune and everything I have seen in this life is no more a tale to be told.

Let this moment mark the last words I would like to sing on my guitar.

Let this moment be the moment when I, for the first time in my life, go wide and far.

Let this moment be the moment when I tell all the ones that passed, I am coming.

Some have waited for too long and some still wet the sand.

Some left when they were full in control, and some left when everything got out of hand.

Cry those who left or cry those who stayed, or shed no more tears for what tears may bring other than more sorrow and more grief.

My life has been spent while I have been trying to find the tune for this very moment, and here I am and here the moment has come, but nothing has changed, I am still lost whether I have found the tune or not.

Have I spent my life burying my head in the sand?

Trying to look out is easy but keeping my head up held and high to sometimes cry and sometimes sigh?

Life has been too cruel to be kind; life has told me to keep my heart open when I should have opened the mind.

Life has left me this moment where I am trying to find the tune of my life, trying to understand the reason of all this quarrel and all this strife.

Life has left me this moment to cry, and yet again to die.

I keep wondering how many times I have to wake up to see myself still clinging my fingers to this guitar, to this life.

Still trying to get a tune out of it, none of mine have found a digestible way to anybody’s taste.

Neither any of the tunes I played nor any of those I had to create made anybody stop, or wait.

This is only the moment that I have to believe in the bitter fate.

Nothing comes on time, nor does it come too late.

Nothing ever happens to change the old tune being played by my ancestors.

I don’t know at this moment what to love and what not to hate.

It’s all happening too fast, yesterday I was that boy that held his guitar for the first time.

Do you remember the first time I tried to find a tune for that beautiful rhyme?

Do you remember the first time I did, when they all considered I had committed the world’s biggest crime?

Do you recollect the moments I wasted my youth locked away from youth trying to find another tune, and another until all the words of my music became louder, but the thought went far away.

Do you remember me as a young man striving and diving into the oceans of music trying to find harmony?

Do you remember me as a man lost in the realms of music?

Do you remember me as a man who had forgotten what made a man tick?

Do you remember me as a man too fair to try to flee?

Do you remember the first time in my life I had the audacity to say we?

Do you remember what happened next, when you remembered that I stopped my quest, and again went to climb the same forbidden tree?

Do you remember when I forgot you and you forgot me?

Do you remember that I have spent my life looking for an answer, for a tune, for some harmony?

It seems that I have spent it in this close cramped cocoon.

I could not find it.

I could not find the tune.

I admit that I lost, yet you should have told me that I should have changed the strings.

February 20, 2010


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