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Mahogany


By Nikke Haddad

I remember how it felt to hold that guitar in my hands for the first time,
And how the heavy mahogany wood felt resting on my thighs-
My fingers would find their way to every string,
And I would close my eyes and let my hands play whatever came to them.

I remember feeling the vibrations of the strings throughout my body,
Connecting me, uniting me, inviting me to the blissful world surrounding me.
My stress would melt away into the abyss, a colossal hole of black-
And I would become pure, transcending the troubles of my day.

I remember listening to the sounds echo throughout my room
And the joy that would overcome me every time I played, every time I struck a chord.
I loved that guitar more than life itself, and I praised it-
It was the only thing that kept me believing, that kept me happy.

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