Poems About Guitars Seeking Honest Critique

That faithful day I fell in love with you,
I held a Spanish guitar in my hand.
And the words of a love song ran through my mind.
You cuddled me like a doll.
I kissed you goodnight.
And I felt your heartbeat as you floated away in my arms.
For you I was living.
Yes, I was living only for loving you.
My heart and body were yours when I loved you.

I remember the words you spoke to me.
There was a spark deep in your eyes;
I could see all the love that you had for me.
Darling, we were so close.
So how did we part?
One day...

Try understanding
Say it was a guitar the sinuous
Affair you are composing
How much time will the executive
Give as life
Your black guitar will have infinity
I as executive pray I buy it for you
I'd love to see you prancing together as one
And navigating diverted stars
While you strum the strings
As it is to a heart with strings connected to a time warp
And your rolling stone can
Speak the words the guitar sighs to you
Love her redeemer surge for you
Like a Robot she exercised this example of what love can be
The...

....sienna brown
singing like an angel
shaped like a classic
simply beautiful......

....I wish that it were me

maybe then
you would want to
hold me
play me
strum my strings
Turn melodies
into symphonies
Let your creative freedom
ring.......

If I were this guitar,
I'd be your beast of burden
You would make love to my body
everyday.......
…..no way you could stay away
always “ready to play”

Touching me,
hands around my waist
emotions so...

When I walked into my corner store today
to get my customary usuals...
I was mentally stuck between a black mood
or a certain shade of grey...you know
that kind of grey that settles in with the fog
after a long night of rain kinda grey
While pondering my next item to purchase
A homeless man...the same man I always see
perched in the corner of the store,by the
freezie machine like some kind of crazed
Cockatoo ...was playing the air guitar
While Freebird was playing on the store speakers
Now, I must say I never would have...

My guitar weeps its tears without refrain,
without refrain as its music plays out my pain.
Guitar, you interpret my pain in your vibrato,
a pain, that knows no happy outcome.
I shall drink waters of this fountain,
this fountain, poisoned, shall forever remain,
poisoned because my tears have fallen therein,
tears mixed with profound anguish.
It is anguish that overflows and colors
my hearts’ melodies without restraint,
no restraint can hold back this agony.
The agony goes without a name,
no name because to speak it aloud ...