I feel like Willie Nelson’s guitar, Trigger. I’m sure when he purchased the instrument, it was in pristine condition; an anxious tool just waiting to display to the world all the good that could come from it if properly handled. Over time, the music produced from Trigger has inspired millions and led countless people to laughter and tears. With time has come damage. The exterior of the famed guitar is worn, to say the least. If it were left on a park bench, a passerby may even mistake it for trash. But the melodious sounds that still come from the device are just as hypnotic as the day it was first strummed.
Sometimes I feel like the world has chewed me up and spit me out. There are days that I feel tired and worse for the wear. I feel like my outside is tattered and scratched and abused. But I still feel like I have much to give. I still feel like the soul of me is pure and good. Sometimes what one sees with the naked eye is not what is really there. Sometimes we mistake possible perfection for disheveled deficiencies. Sometimes we just need someone to look past our external flaws and appreciate us for the potential we have to achieve beauty if tenderly encouraged. So I remain; sitting on the park bench being regarded or rather disregarded as useless; just waiting to be played.