No One Heard Him Play the Rain
Living in a box down the alley way
Apart from the hustle of the work day
When a rain storm would begin
His face would light up with a grin
For only he could hear the beat
With in the rain fast and neat
Out in the rain he made his band
With his drumsticks in weathered hands
Beating out his own refrain
He turned his talent loose, unchained
Upon the trash bins where he stands
With a collection of metal cans
He’d fill the cans to change the sound
and play in the rain as if spellbound
They watched from windows high right and left
Sealed in their buildings tight and deaf
Their sympathy for the “crazy” man they did feign
No one heard him play the rain
"Tanding The Sprouts" contest
Placement: 4th place
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