|
| |
The Unhoused Street Musician Of Budapest
Whenever I spot
red-bearded Origin,
the unhoused street musician
of Budapest who asks for a donation,
not making a protest with a grin;
don't be amazed if I'm the first
to drop coins in his empty cup:
does anybody, not in a rush, ever stop
and give him some attention?
Does he ever feel humiliation?
He's too young to be singing the wretched blues,
he's too strong to waste his precious youth;
and whenever a crowd gathers around him
his sadness becomes joy, his day is not grim:
when he's discouraged he expects many boos,
and unable to play his thoughts express no worth!
He strums the strings of that old guitar,
to show everyone that life is worthwhile...
despite the moments of pain and anger;
he sings brightly to match Ruby's big smile!
Who has ever felt sadder than the unhoused street musician
and found a cozy corner to grieve or to be applauded?
A house is a home only for some: there dreams are weaved;
there smiles abound and those four walls are protection!
Feel empathy for the lonely street musician in Budapest,
keep filling up his paper cup with another coin that tinkles;
dedicate a minute of your time before his hope dwindles:
he may not be the greatest player, but surely the proudest!
Copyright ©
Andrew Crisci
|
|