The Old Guitarist Ekphrastic Poem

Location

60603
United States
41° 52' 51.2976" N, 87° 37' 31.53" W

Young when I first met you
I didn’t understand your depth and pain
You were nothing but melancholy and blue
I unfortunately classified you as inane

Once again we meet
I am much older and read your soul
I have wondered the street
I find comfort in you while I seek my goal

The more I find the more I want to know
There are plenty of troubles in your breath
For I have met your creator, Dear Picasso
You think you may meet your inevitable death

I know there is much ahead of you
I take you as my inspiration to reach
I once had the trouble to pursue
Take another stab is what you beseech

You may think you have met the end of your road
If that is what you chose then it may be
But this place I assure you can be a better abode
Only if you don’t accept your limitations to not see

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