Man On the Corner
"Man On the Corner"
Timing his loitering for the lunch time bustle
He picks up his tempo to mere acquiescence
Passing by without condescension or anything at all
Hooligans steal an earful on the way to their busy lives
With calloused fingertips working aural interest
His style plays for lifeless pennies and coins
Dropping dead into his guitar case from cold business-like hands
A state of being not far off for him if he doesn't collect soon
Minimum wage seem unfair for a man of such skill
Yet refreshing for the reality of what he's accrued
Ironically desperate for attention in a city of so many
Sharing his unintentional benevolence on others ears
The dirt on his face with a beard in its place
A hard life for the dreamer fighting for his due
He plays to assuage the very angst that builds up
By going so completely unappreciated
People don't bother with him for the most part
Putting the guitarist in a world all his own
Of intangible spirits walking away in skirts and suits
They are all to ignorant of his existence
So he spreads himself out like jelly
On a toast of tarmac at the end of the day
Fatigued for not being famous
Barely having enough money to eat dinner
He goes inside the very restaurant he had
The privilege of playing in front of
To use the bathroom and shave his beard
A once a week renewal of the musician
Buying a full course meal with soup and salad
Gaining confidence, fat and muscle
He is able to take over for Atlas with a single meal
And goes back outside knowing the evening rush has yet to hear him play
Not done yet.
Copyright © Karl Marszalowicz | Year Posted 2011
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