SONGS & DREAMS |
He stood on a stage of finely lacquered Wood strips, holding his guitar, sipping warm beer From a heavy mug, between laughter. The stage was set up back in the rear Of the warm, cozy little people-den Filled with hard-working folks so dear. Honest and simple, they didn't follow trends; They came to relax and enjoy good times. He'd give them a show at the day's end. He set out stuffed animals in a line On the stage, before his feet, perhaps To be unique or, perhaps as a sign. He strummed off-the-cuff rhymes to start the act And recited careless, funny proverbs, Giggling in poor taste like a pompous ass. Then they grew tired and started to stir; Yes, even they, so well tempered, grew bored. So he started a song which no one'd heard. It was one of his best--dear to his heart. But the people left (an ungrateful hoard!). They wrecked his soul--he couldn't even start! |