My Guitar

Whenever I sit down and play my guitar,
All my troubles seem so far.
I take my pick and glide it across the strings,
I love the sound of the vibrating ring.

I don't have to think about the worries of my day.
I surrender to the music and let my fingers play.
My calloused fingers burn, but it doesn't put me to an end.
It's times like these when my guitar is my best friend.

I may not be the greatest musician, it's true.
I don't care who hears me, I don't care what they do.
But if someone gets joy out of hearing me play,
Things get brighter and I'll have a better day.

I wish that I could play on and on.
But something's come up, there's no time for one last song.
Sadly the moment ends, and reality comes back my way.
So I set my guitar in its case and put it away.