A old man beyond salvation

slumps on the ground

and prepares for his end.

He starts listing what he doesn’t have

anymore,

He is

beyond the point of coming back

but he still has one joy.

He has a motivation to keep going

but not from himself or

anyone else that he knows,

but for the object he holds,

not a weapon or a tool,

but an instrument of pure art.

not a paintbrush or a chalk,

a guitar that can make one happy

by simply doing what it does best,

making noises that can warm a heart.

He strums the chords and

strokes the frame thinking of where it came from.

Funny how an object could hold such a memory

that itself holds so much sadness.

The old, sad man may be without a home

and a job and a family,

but he still has some joy left in him.