This poem started out as lyrics in my novel, Ain't Nuthin' Gonna Separate Us. Available at all book stores and online.
‘Specially the lost souls seekin’ our music as a cure fur somethin’ they don’t know sickens them weave our magic, notes a tapestry of pain and triumph each song a story told In this dim-lit haven where the pain belongs guitar strings weep, and the piano keys moan Their troubles forgotten in the whiskey's sweet sin the moon hangs low, casting shadows on the walls and I blow my harp, conjuring tales of love and falls I've seen heartache and joy, etched in every face from the broken-hearted lover to the lost in grace
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