Poetry

It's hard to tell how many regrets my heart keeps,
 
After the scars of my heart I see.
 
Eyes fall short of tears to cry,
 
While my guitar gently weeps...
 
 
 
When my present turns back and into the past it peeps,
 
Delightful memories flood in with a sweet pain.
 
All the anguish comes out through the strings,
 
While my guitar gently weeps...
 
 
 
As the nostalgia 
on my broken heart creeps,
 
I curse myself for my blunders.
 
Nobody can ever hear my heart sob,
 
While my guitar gently weeps...
 
 
 
It is so unfair that the whole world peacefully sleeps,
 
And has faithful people to care.
 
But I have nobody to console me,
 
While my guitar gently weeps...
 
 
 
                                  -Sujay Patekar