My guitar in the corner

Standing off in a corner,

Just a little ways away.

I see something covered all over with dust,

It's my Guitar that I used to play.

I stare at it and wonder,

Will I ever play again?

Will I ever hear the sweet songs played –

Or, is there just too much pain?

There was a time, when I would play,

Long long into the night,

And I’d sing the songs I liked to hear,

Without end – to my heart’s delight.

I’d play a little Country,

And then some modern Pops.

Whatever it was, you can rest assured,

The rhythm was simply tops.

But, you know, as usually happens,

All good things have to end.

There comes a time when you have to part,

And say good-bye – to a dear old friend.

No longer – will I hold her,

In my wanting but aching arms,

Or hear her sing out the music,

That soothed me with her charms.

Just rest in your dusty corner,

‘Till someone younger comes along.

When again we’ll have a house full,

Of great music – and of song.

By Charles F. Cutler