Guitar Man

He was a taller fellow, with sandy brown eyes.
He glided into a room, and the girls fell.
As for me, I saw through this guy.
I saw more than anyone could tell.
His composure was like that of a bull.
Confident, strong, and charming.
To me his tricks were dull.
Yet I found my interest alarming.
He carried nothing, but a guitar.
His songs of pain and love consumed me.
He was an anomaly by far.
And before I knew it, he saw through ME.
Late into the night we'd speak of our lives.
I told him of my previous afflictions.
He told me of his six ex-wives.
It seemed as if he became my addiction.
One day I no longer heard the ominous songs.
My drawers had been deprived of his clothes.
He had taken his belongings and gone.
Where he went?
Nobody knows...