Music Maker
A music maker in the midst of night,Jeans worn smooth and feel just right,
His guitar is tuned and ready to sing
To all who are near these cat gut strings.
His mind on the music, his heart in the song
Nothing is right and nothing is wrong,
A tap on the drums, the beat from the stick
He plays and he strums, this my friend Nick.
Making a sound so loud and clear
Singing his soul to all who can hear
The message he sings, the music he plays
His beat keeps rocking all of our days.
Poetry by Morpheus
Read 587 times
Written on 2006-04-02 at 06:42
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Veld Cooper |
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