The Homeless Musician

The homeless man sets down his can and then begins to play,
singing the songs from older days,
he doesn't dress like he's been paid,
I stall to listen,

Oh his guitar has traveled far and ended up on main,
his lone companion on the train
the sole catharsis for his pain
his eyes, they glisten

The tears that fall will have a ball, they rise into the sky
the cycle repeats all your life,
continues after you die
continues after

The babe that cries will one day die and never live again
this looming fate awaits his friends
for every story has an end
but some end faster

poem by Clay Kohut
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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