The Fate Of A Musician Poem by Benjamin Andrew
The Fate Of A Musician
Every day I pick up my guitar and just play
I write my own songs with the help of friends
We design music and lyrics we start new trends
Acoustic guitar, electric guitar or 12 strings
These instruments have played my songs and I have grown wings
Soaring and flying watching my creations grow
As the music expands the lyrics just flow
The more I create the more passionate I become
The more I play the more fun we have
Music gives me something to do
Each song I write I will be sure to see through
When I am up on stage standing in the spotlight
I spread my wings, start playing, and take flight!
When the crowd cheers you get a feeling of inspiration
After the gig you’re sitting home alone
You pull out your guitar stick in the headphones
You start strumming, creating your own beat
You sit there all night tapping your feet
The history of music and the sound you create
Brings friends closer together I reckon its more then fate.
Benjamin A. Green
Driving through a desolate area of New Jersey We saw a bunch of cars at a roadside club Thought, why not, maybe they have someone performing Inside the place was jammed and quite Except for the drummer on the stage He beat those drums unmercifully without pause Prespiration ran freely as he called forth time after time The rhythm and the flashes of violence that had made him famous Gene Krupa was his name And he performed not for the money (yet I'm sure he needed it) But for the opportunity to play. If no one had been there, He surely would have been at his drums That was his life. So it is with you, Continue to play! s
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4/16/2024 3:00:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
YES! its dedicated to me =]... your the one that got me into writing poems, i should be thanking you =] Its an awsum poem... love it love Samara xx