Guitar

Guitars go twang and ping,
And it’s really hard to pluck that thing.
You sometimes play it on a stage,
And then you will become all the rage.

But sooner or later they will forget you,
And soon all rain will get you.
But wait, there’s hope once more,
You get remembered by thousands and you start to thaw.

So that is a life of a guitar and its player,
I wrote this poem to protect you of the layer,
Of fame and stardom these days.