Descriptive Essay On My Guitar

The scorching sun 's golden rays brushed the ground, making the whole world glimmer under its touch. The cold pavement was slowly getting heated up. I rolled up my sleeping rag and pushed it into the plastic bag. My stomach growled loudly, reminding me about the two days that I had spend without food. My temperature had come down to normal yesterday, and I was ready to work again.

I slowly pulled out my black guitar with red flames all over it. The guitar shone under the sun rays. It had been more than six years since I had brought this guitar. I had taken care of it like a baby, since then. I polish it every night with a piece of rag, that I have saved. The black strap that was attached to it was worn out, and could tear apart any day. I threw it over my shoulder and walked to a more crowded place, on the street. The shops were opening slowly and the flood of people

I spread a small piece of white cloth in front of me. Then started striking on the strings with my blue striker. I saw people swarming towards me, making me a bit nervous. Within a few minutes, there was a pile of people surrounding me. Now everything around me just felt so surreal to

Me and my mom, we were a happy family. My father passed away, a year after my birth. So I don 't have the faintest memory about him. But mom used to show me his pictures. She said that I looked exactly like him. I had his chartreuse eyes and button nose. It was difficult to live with peanuts that my mother earn, but it was not impossible. I had always dreamt of being an architect. Not just for me, for my mother too. I wished to give her all the happiness that she ever deserved. But all my dreams got shattered when my mom finally found her happily ever after, my step dad. She told me that she needed someone in her life. To support her, to love her, to take care of