GuitarThere was a wee child planted just outside the doorGuitar2 days ago in Free Verse
With a guitar in his hands and a case on the floor
Full of spare change and a few sparse dollars.
He musters the strength in his bones and hollers
With a voice like that of a wounded animal,
Riddled with cigarettes and a half-empty Snapple
And speaks words with the impact of a missile
As gently as a first kiss under some green thistle.
I returned his notes through my intent gaze,
Penetrating the window and all its haze
And joining the boy as he strums with hands
Bruised from effort, but smooth as he can,
He weaves his listeners like a patchwork quilt
Into the thoughtful unit we could have built
And for just a minute the entire street corner
Is united in his melody, for they know the words,
And as the final chord comes to fades to silence
It echoes our existence for many miles,
Through the crowded streets and many roads,
The story of effort poured into our growth.
And the silence is broken by a falling coin,
Joining the mass of crumple
Electric Guitar's profileElectric Guitar's profileElectric Guitar's profile4 hours ago in Plot Outlines & Synopses
Full name: Electric Guitar
History behind nicknames: None availible
Hair color: None
Hairstyle: He doesn't have one because he is bald
Hair length: None
Eye color: Dark reddish-brown
Skin color: Red and white
Height: 3 foot 7
Born race/species: Electric guitar
Works as: An entertainer in Musical-Land
Personality traits: Friendly, helpful, caring, and fun
Training: 100+ years of making music
Hobbies: Making music to entertain people
Date of birth: April 1st, 1585
How old he appears: He looks to be about 25
Astrological sign: Aries
Friends: Goop, Yanpookie, Art, Gum, King Rainbow, Queen Heart, Prince Starlow, Princess Starina, Peach, Cherry, Apple, Passion Fruit, Strawberry, Lemon, Lime, Pineapple, Aquesio, Patch, Boomer, Cinnamon, Piano, Drum, Trumpet, Saxophone, Trombone, Harp, Violin, Metallina, Superbot, Valentina, Mrs. Riceinton, Madorah, Katheryn
Me and my Guitar When we were young our minds were freeMe and my Guitar 2 hours ago in Songs & Lyrics
Felt like the rulers of the world, were adventurers of the sea
And the next day we were a prince saving our queen
But then we grow up and meet the fear that paralyses us with its sting
It's just me and my guitar singing for the world to see us
Me and my guitar
Let us burn in the fire deep in our hearts
To make our dreams come alive
There's no need to be afraid of tomorrow
'Cause I will lend you my hand
So time goes by and we learn to act
Hide our feelings behind a smile, shut them down until the dawn
And no one knows the struggles deep inside
But then the night comes. . .
So, Let it Rip (solo ver.)Hm...Hm...Hm-m-m-m...So, Let it Rip (solo ver.)2 hours ago in Songs & Lyrics
So you're sitting here alone,
Wonderin' how you could've known
That so many things, could go so wrong?
But suddenly you realize
This doesn't have to be your demise
Life is worth living,
That's cause for a smile...
So, let it rip!
Let it all out!
There's dancin' in the streets tonight,
And from the rooftop we will shout!
Let it rip!
Just let it go!
Watch the clouds give way to sunshine
And the night is all aglow!
(long acoustic guitar solo--Note Star Powers are triggered here)
So you come out of that lonely room,
It doesn't feel right to assume
That one time of sadness, will keep you down...
Just accept yourself just as you are
If you believe, you'll go that far
Better days are coming,
You can do this!
So* let it rip!
Let it all out!
There's magic in the air tonight,
Gotta let the world know!
Let it rip!
Just let it go!
There's color everywhere right now,
This joy I've gotta show!
BROTHERS FROM DOOD II, RUM #1 THE VOICE OF GODPrologueBROTHERS FROM DOOD II, RUM #1 THE VOICE OF GOD3 days ago in Introductions & Chapters
Howdy there, my name is Tim…
As you may remember, across the sands of time, there lies a place found outside existence. It's known as Narritopia, a big ol’rock
populated by some mighty find stuck up people, called Narrators. These people tell stories, and give their characters a conscience, a
voice, so to act out in the way they need to fulfill what that story may be about. I had done so with my own story, to some critical
acclaim. And a good story it was too, about a friend a mine. One of them you might come to recognize as Greg Zook. A few other
fellas met up with him, and they were quite taken with each other. Down the line though, these new friends were not of our world
and had to be removed, so to speak. Now here is the next bit. A these men of stranger ilk showed up uninvited in a dangerous world of
historical relevance under threat of being misinterpreted. I didn’t want them wild horses to come tearing up the place. But, once these