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Robert's avatar

Greg's Poetry

There’s a room in every good guitar shop that smells like heaven,

cedar,

spruce,

mahogany,

rosewood.

It's quiet in there, almost reverent.

You step inside, and feel like you’ve walked into

a forest that learned how to sing.

Each guitar hanging on the wall is a piece of wood that’s been carefully

chosen,

shaped,

tuned.

Crafted with precision to carry sound;

emotion, really, through the air.

This is beautiful, Greg. Thanks!

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