My Guitar Gently Wails

My fingers know the notes to every song,
Across the decades, my mind helps them play.
They dance across the scale, they’re never wrong.
Even without lyrics, the stories stay.

Every solo, and the backup notes,
I can play without falter, effortless.
The songs resonate, down the halls they float.
The guitar strung down low, below my chest.

Parading down the halls, proud as can be,
The guitar in my arms, it fits just right.
The sound travels pure, it’s like they can see.
The pick on the strings and my eyes closed tight.

I have never played the guitar, never.
But my mind, air guitar, let me play f’ever. 

Mick Sullivan