her fingernails were chipped and her fingers were hardened
from hours of struming on her beat-up-old guitar
sitting on street corners with her case wide open
and empty.
her clothes rested on bones with skin stretched tight
and her shoulders were slumped
but her eyes were alive with the music she was making,
she couldn't express herself in any other way than
her homemade songs and beat-up-old guitar.
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