Six Strings

This old guitar has six tired strings, Each tied to a hurt that my life brings. They ache and weep and cut so deep. Each string sings my broken dreams. The first string wails of a home long gone. It howls for roots I can't lean on. It's cry runs long, a mournful song This string laments where I belong. The second string wails of nights so cold. Of empty arms and pain untold. His tune holds ache and doesn't break. It tells a tale of hearts grown old. These six steel strings, they sing the blues. When played alone, sad mournful tunes. When played as one, a healing moan. They build a bridge that takes me home. The third string sighs for love betrayed, A fleeting fire that didn't stay Its whispers rise through midnight skies, A mournful song that fades away. The fourth string mourns for those I've lost. Their voices hushed, their lives the cost. It mourns through time, this loss is mine. This string's a line I'll one day cross. These six steel strings, they sing the blues. When played alone, sad mournful tunes. When played as one, a healing moan. They build a bridge that takes me home. The fifth string wails of dreams undone. Of children lost beneath the sun. Its cries resound on hallowed ground, It speaks the weight of what won't come. The sixth string hums of struggles faced, Of scars I wear and time misplaced. It calls through night and grips me tight, It holds a pain I can't embrace. These six steel strings, they sing the blues. When played alone, sad mournful tunes. When played as one, a healing moan. They build a bridge that takes me home.