Alex
His hair flies wild with the wind,
curls cascading around him
like some sort of earthly halo,
some sort of lone traveler
from a far distant land.
His guitar strung casually across his back,
he walks with contemplative steps
only when no one is looking.
Seemingly carefree,
his smile lights up my night with splendor,
and his gentle guitar woos me.
Still he carries deep within him
a secret burden; a troubled soul,
the weight of the world
can be seen deep in his soul tired eyes,
yet his tender lips remain mute.
He is a modern martyr
in this dirty world,
and when he finally speaks,
others will hear only silence,
and all of his life,
his worries, his woes, his wisdom,
will have been for naught.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
