One Guitar's Story
I can remember (though it was long ago) when I was his only guitar... his first. We met downtown. I was hanging out with the other guitars when the Empty man walked in. The Empty man spoke with the Busy man who, after a brief conversation, led the Empty man over to where my friends and I spent our days watching people come and go. I was young and pretty. The Busy man gently lifted me and placed me in the arms of the Empty man. He held me a while and then urged me to sin...
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