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
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.
Copyright © Brad Nicolas | Year Posted 2015
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