I’m a pawn shop guitar man.They don’t let me in uptown.I don’t get around downtown much either. I’ve been waiting for the bus,but the buses don’t run. It’s okay.It could be worse. I’ve got this guitar. Paint’s a little worn. Six strings.Twenty frets. A universe. Lift it from the case.Start to play. Testifying beneath theContinue reading “Pawn Shop Guitar Man”
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Escape Down the Alley
The city was quiet this time of the morning. The last of the drinkers and the clubbers had made their way home and the rest of the world hadn’t woken up yet. The occasional taxi roared past, breaking the early morning quiet, its lights reflecting on the wet ground as a slow cold December rainContinue reading “Escape Down the Alley”
The Guitar
The room silent.Cold.Rain falling on the window I don’t mind the rain.I don’t mind the darknessIt’s the silence that kills meMy guitar by my chair.20 frets6 stringsLifeI’m stumbling down the fretboard. C, B, A minor. My mind spinning and tripping, thoughts rushing The notes dipping down And soaring back up to FAnd GMy spirit followingContinue reading “The Guitar”
Paul Andrew Sneddon 