The Melody In His White Guitar

Poem for Jaime

This white bench witnessed how I linger
For someone to intrude my empty patch.
I need something or someone who’s stranger
That will help me liven up all these scratch.
These white pieces of papers
Hold empty promises and cares
Flaunt my memoirs and prayers
That love will suddenly appear!
But white lyrics will always be dull
Like this prairie without flowers.
I need the melody in his white guitar
Like drizzles in a midst of a summer.
How will this garden be lovely?
How will my songs be sung?
If like the sultry air never be felt
His white guitar in no way is heard.
- Ryan Labana