Every day I promise myself that I’d practice the next day.
It waits for me patiently to play it someday or the other.
But, I fear, I’m insincere and to practice I seldom bother.Every week I go to my master, unprepared, shamelessly.
I play the tune I’ve practiced not, however horrible it may be.
My master silently observes me and the truth he knows well.
From his silence, I understand what he’d like to tell.
When I bought that guitar, I promised myself, I’d practice to be the best.
My guitar and I would be a team, and until success we’d never rest.
I’ve always been amazed by my friends who play so well the guitar.
For months I’ve been learning, but even so, I haven’t yet gone far.
I’ve waited for years to learn this and I shall not give up.
I will make my master proud, and I will practice to rise up.
Every day, I shall make time and practice somehow.
And onstage, my guitar and I will soon take our awaited bow.
Note: Originally titled ‘My Guitar and I’