Never Useless
She plucks the string of the beat-up old guitar, it makes a sound, a sound of waste, a sound of lost time, a sound of no play.
She walks to the chair, and takes a seat, the chair falls to the ground, not because of her light weight, but of no use, wasted time, time lost, and oldness.
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Thanks Grunter, I play guitar, also. I take guitar lessons this fall (: Out of all the poems I have ever wrote, this one is one of my favorites!