My Place

I bottle it up, all this emotion inside.

If it wasn't for my guitar, I'm afraid I might be demoralized.

The beauty of the tone, takes away my regrets.

While the playing with my hands, makes me forget.

The strumming carries, and ring throughout.

That reminds me of memories, of laughing about. 

The strings that vibrate, make me wonder.

Whats to come and ponder.

My mind empty, and my soul somewhere else.

My guitar a playing, with nobody else.

It's here I belong, for this short being.

Until I move on, again back to reality.