Old Man Continued
By Abilene
Worthy of this pen And with it's lyrical sound I script... And now, this man Playing with some strangers drums Drumming nothing Because nothing does he know I think to myself, "Who owns this man?" Who washes his clumsy arms & legs? Who birthed this wrinkled child? Will I be the one To say to his face That he's not worthy of the drums? Or that he does not own them? And am I rude or careless Saying these things When everyone is thinking The same to themselves? Poor man, with no fault No history or thought Just a wet, stale smile As you beat those beautiful drums Written December 5th, 2001 © on Dec 05 2001 06:34 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Worthy of this pen..."