He's just
Any old man
In any old bar
With a guitar
Then a drunk
Comes up and say's
Play us a barre
Every line on his face
Is a hook
For a book
Every crease in his neck
Is for the pain
He had to take
So he didn't care
About some young drunk
He just pulled up a chair
He started to play
People could do nothing but stare
At the sweet sound
Of misery and despair
As the bluesman played
The drunk fell to his knees
Tears of respect
Rolled down his face
As he felt the bluesmans fears
He took him to places he'd never been
He took him back
With the sweet sound of home
He took him
To where he had grown
His name
Was bluesman Jack
Hi, dave, very sad poem though in a bar which always in a full smoke, nobody notice blues man's suffering except you ...10..... Thank you for the kind words.. Tsira
I love guitar and i play it while doin ma poetry. Good words, great poet.
I like where this poem comes from. Maybe the hardships in life can sometimes be good for people and I like how this poem suggests that the blues we feel is not wasted on us and may be a helpfull emotion that keeps us going forward.
Great poem. I like poems about the blues. It is such an artistic and heart felt music so bringing poetry to that stage only makes sense.
He took him to places he'd never been He took him back With the sweet sound of home He took him To where he had grown A lovely poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Soulful write.Loved your emotional write as earlier.