
that guitar is useless in
his hands now
He spent over ten thousand
hours playing
It’s all he does, really
He has all the time
in the world
after the accident that
rendered his legs
useless
He sits in bed or in
the wheelchair all day
and plays the guitar
but it’s all useless
He’s lacking the fire
in his eyes
All his songs are the
same song
A sad tune
And the lyrics are all in
his mind
and they’re darker than his
eyes
Colder
The other day his
mother found a
knife in his room,
under the mattress
He said the guitar wasn’t
enough anymore
The guitar was fine so far
because the cords
brought feeling
to his fingers
but now that the fingers
had gone completely numb
with thick skin
he wanted to
pick up the violin
for a change
-BOGDAN DRAGOS
Bogdan Dragos supervises casinos for a gambling company, working twelve-hour shifts locked in a dark office full of TV monitors. There he mostly daydreams and writes poems and stories. He also manages a poetry blog Daydreaming as a profession.

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Bogdan’s writing often shakes a person to the core. Losing the use of one’s limbs or for that matter any body part is a life-shattering experience. Though dark and eerie, there is beauty in this particular piece. The loss of feeling in the legs and the numbed fingers must be compensated by a feeling that satisfies the depressed mind and devastated heart. Slicing those tendons, sadly, is the only way. Bone-chilling…
Congratulations Bogdan!
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(つ▀_▀)つ Thank you!
Oftentimes, depressed people who see no way out of a situation will turn to art. And from here, I guess there are two roads that diverge. Either the art helps them find happiness and elevates their life, or it doesn’t, case in which they’ll descend into darker and darker arts.
From the external observer’s point of view, both roads can lead to greatness.
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Reblogged this on Daydreaming as a profession.
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Beautiful poem. I’m not musical myself, but I know people who tried several instruments.
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Thank you! (─‿‿─)
I’m also not musical in any way. Though I once tried drums, thinking they’re the simplest instrument of all. Obviously, I was very wrong…
{\__/}
(●_●)
( >🥁
(*me with a drum having no idea what I’m doing…)
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Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford.
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This is so relevant to me. I came down with Lyme disease several years ago and it took everything for awhile, even pieces of my soul. I could no longer do what I loved most which is playing and performing. It all came back with time, even the inspiration to write again. We have to find a way to reach into that darkness and bring it into the light.
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Yes, it all stands in finding that way to pull yourself out of the darkness, and from there it’s the snowball effect.
Glad to hear you’re in a better place now
٩(๑•◡ -๑)۶ ⒽⓤⒼ
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Having worked as a nurse I was so afraid of becoming dependent on others to take care of me. This is a subject near and dear to my heart as I have met many wounded warriors at the VA Hospital in Seattle. This was cleaver way of merging an instrument (music) and sadness into such a piece. Very cleaver writing. Hugs, Joni
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Oh, that would be one nasty feeling. To know that you can no longer survive on your own and need others to take care of you. Especially for someone who grew up learning not to rely upon anyone else. Artists will be artists, I guess. They’ll do what they can with what they have where they are and eventually express their feelings through their art (◕‸◕ )
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So very true. Well done. Great story you always make us think. ❤️❤️
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I used to get drunk and high and play guitar, sing my favorite songs by other artists. I stopped because it caused too much commotion with neighbors. I do not fare well with attention.
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Well, somebody once said that writing is a superior art to music. And their argument was simply because unlike music, writing can be ignored and thus it won’t disturb anybody who doesn’t want to consume it.
꒰· ◡· ꒱
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powerful, sad and relatable! Well done!💖👏
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Thank you!
٩( *´╰╯`)۶
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💖💖💖👏
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