The Musician
In the middle of a desolate room,
croons a musician tall and mild.
An instrument of solace,
of sorrowful tune.
Those fingertips pick, strum, and caper;
tandem are his strings and tendons.
Listen close.
Observe the man taper
into his guitar, into another soul akin.
Another limb, perhaps the most important,
entwined with the smoke of coal--
The fire within.
Smothered, saddened, dearest
Melancholy musician
Play something new.
YOU ARE READING
Verses
PoetryBook One: ~Romanticism~ An anthology of poems I worked on for a poetry class. They are reflective of how one feels when the heart and mind become entangled. Book Two: ~About~ Another collection of poetry that illuminates and explores the definitio...
