Brennan An Irish Rock Star Living In the States

He will rise in the morning with A can in his hand, wondering -why he left his beloved home. He comforts the streets, park benches, and bars At nights, asking for change -in-between fights. At home, his Irish spirit, he is a star They still sing songs of his glory, -can you hear it from this far? He is neither here nor there, if he had a ticket He might not go back, -but then again he might. I guess it would depend on the night. Sometimes the shame is too much to bare, But he still says leave me alone -and dreams of an Irish Dar. “Let them imagine my glory, I wouldn’t want to crush my own story.” He smiles and drifts away.