Busker In The Rain Poem by Hans Ostrom

Busker In The Rain



I am a folksinger
sitting in the rain,
playing my guitar,
very much in pain.

Nobody's listening,
nobody cares.
Someone took the table,
leaving broken chairs.




I am a failing busker.
And I love it so.
I am myself, and that's
all I know.

Nobody's listening,
they all turn away.
They look like hollow barns
that hold no hay.


hans ostrom

Monday, January 2, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: singing,rain
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