Caressing My Steel Strings
Caressing My Steel Strings
The Guitar
And sing to me.
Poke yourself with all my loose ends,
That have been left untied.
Don’t tarnish this wood,
That has been coated several times.
Don’t forget about me,
In the corner of your room.
Hit me gently,
To accompany your beat.
Rest the crock of your arm,
On my shoulder.
I don’t know how to play on my own,
But you can help me learn and grow.
If I could strum away like you do,
I would sing to you too.
The Guitar, by Sascha Hinz-Pinet
A re-imagined guitar that is thinner, lighter, and with an automatic tuning system for an easier learning experience and to help play longer hours without physical discomfort.