Maddened city traffic selfishly pushes along The sidewalk a frustrated river, ever straining to arrive five minutes late. A very important woman trips A very foolish old man in her way Every day, idly perched under the dirty streetlight He plays senseless melodies No one ever listens No one ever throws him pocket change He is mid-crowd but could not possibly be more alone A solo in his spotlight, he raises the bow and the Weathered violin sings its reply magic and secrets are hidden in its cheerful music The strings speak of paradise and love and dreams Of laughter and joy so beautiful that the man's face creases into a smile Behind his closed eyelids he is momentarily detached Warm in the embrace of his memories and the sweet song that envelops him Maddened city traffic and hunger surround him but their pain goes unnoticed, Hidden by ribbons of warm harmony, the faithful solace of the violin.
Reason for writing:
It's straight-forward and easy to understand because I spared
myself the trouble of including a bunch of metaphorical crap.
It's not how I usually write...but I almost like it.
Birth sign: Not entered
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