Bleeding Guitar

I will play until my fingertips

are painfully dripping and bleeding from the blood.

I will play until the scars are feeding

my callus;

The strings and their mark carved into it forever.


I will play in my anger

and anguish in this terrible danger.

Please don’t speak your so-called excuse.

Please don’t show me any sign of pity.

You don’t care about me anymore, you see?!

And I don’t care about myself too.


So I will play for the very last time

until my organs are exploding from the pain;

Yes it shivers me to know you won’t be here anymore;


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