The man and his guitar

this came from the painting, stories, and personal experience

A guitar wails deep in the night

it awakens many but it's long till light

but none of them awake with fright

 

it makes a low and mounful sound

it causes them to look around

and find its owner on the ground

 

he sits inside a broken up box

sitting on the cold hard rocks

so thin that he can barely walk

 

he is hapless he's tall and lean

with only rags to huddle between

but in his eyes a glimmer is seen

 

as he sends his music far and wide

for all of those who sleep inside

as from the cold he tries to hide

grown men weep at his simple notes

that come from this instrument he totes

and to it so much time devotes

 

for he is the best in all the city

not as smart not as pretty

 

for he once was a brother long long ago

and though nothing can escape time's flow

 

he lives himself in a lonely world

but he cares for every boy and girl

as if they were his own

Author's Note

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