His ViolinA Poem by hkpt08In the middle of the sidewalk he stands, And there, clutched carefully in his callused hands, The little stringed instrument that always makes me sing His beautiful, wooden violin
Every little note that you’d hear him play Would make you want to dance and sway You’d tap your toes to the happy rhythm That came from the music that was played by him
When he’d play a melancholy song, A huge crowd would come along And watch him try to hide his grief Or heave a heavy sigh of relief
Yes, his violin made the most dulcet sound, The most beautiful thing you’d hear all around I threw a coin in his can of tin, A treat for the poor man and his violin © 2011 hkpt08Reviews
|
Stats
216 Views
10 Reviews Added on July 11, 2011 Last Updated on July 11, 2011 Authorhkpt08PhilippinesAboutJust an exceptionally imaginative, unrealistically optimistic UP student. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. My picture is but a hollow shell of the human that lives within. It cann.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|