The Busker (poem)
Softly strumming, lost in Song
Heedless of the Passing Throng…
Seemed to me
his distant gaze
Sought the Hope of better days.
Undernourished , poorly dressed..
Life had dealt him second ..best ..
Threading chords , he charmed the Air …
In the busy Subway .. where..
Now and then .. a Head would ..turn ..
Something of his skill ,discern …
Old familiar Blues he crooned…
Telling of a Life , Marooned ..
Yet ..no Lyrics could convey
All his heart might wish to say
~~and ..far too soon…along came a Train ..
Left me Pensive for a while …
Trying hard to Reconcile ….
Talent on the Subway ..
..with all the Artists found on TV..
Ego-..rich …but talent free…
This poem is by leprichaun_magic, Ireland.