My Green Guitar

by A.

My Green Guitar is old and weathered
Your white guitar is new and shiny

My hand grapples with the strings and choppy notes come out
Your fingers caress the cords and graceful melodies grace the air

My hand strangles the neck holding for dear life
Your palm offers a gentle support to the stem

My guitar seems oversized in my lap leaving me uncomfertable
Your guitar seems as if it was tailored to your liking

My guitar is chipped and battered
Your guitar is polished and untouched