In My Own Eyes

It’s light brown in color
Almost tan
The pick guard is a deep brown
A color as dark as night

Six steel strings
Held taut
By six tuning pegs
Mounted securely
On the neck

When you strum your pick
Across the strings
A beautiful sound emanates,
Soft,
Peaceful,
And as hyper as a puppy,
On any given day.

The young man
That is the wielder of this instrument
Knows it,
Knows it well,
Knows the guitar,
Is a master of it.

In my own eyes