he can't speak. and maybe, maybe he doesn't have a voice. he's trapped by his own body. sometimes he tries to escape. it never succeeds. but i love his sweet sounding saxophone. he plays a romantic tune. although he'll never speak in words, i would not trade his sound of the music for the sound of his own voice. this poem was about him
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
