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The Horn

From anywhere in Harlem you can hear it A soulful moan that covers you like a blanket He has been there on that corner For as long as anyone can remember Him and his horn He plays music for the people Sometimes the young ones sing along But mostly just him and his horn Playing for the people Rain or shine He's there no matter what His little cup rattles with the change given He doesn't play for the money He plays for the joy His hair is white now His fingers not quite as nimble But he still plays He still makes it moan The horn (c)kingpen2021

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things