May 31, 2011
By , Outlook, Canada
He loved the tingle of the strings,
Played the true beauty in everything,
The feeling made him a star,
Oh, Johnny loved that guitar.

Johnny pressed his fingers down to esape the pain,
His only saviour was the Lenin and Cobain
Strummed through the painful, the brutel, the bad,
His guitar was all Johnny ever had.

He always wanted to be famous, Hollywood or bust,
His dreams began to cruble, wither into dust.
Johnny played with the wrong crew,
As the passion of music faded, his addiction grew.

Just another shot, one more stinging burn,
Johnny doesn't know where to turn,
No longer does he play his songs,
The drugs placed a sentence, life long.

He wants to escape this addiction, run away,
All Johnny wants to do is play,
Wishing it never got this far,
Oh, Johnny misses his guitar.

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