"The Crowd"

The tattooed girl leaned to the mic
A little more than she should
Drowning the guitarist
Who wasn’t all that good
Emotion in her voice sang out
Of pain she’d never see
You’d think this hardened city girl
Was from the hills of Tennessee

The crowd ignored everything
And looked the other way
Their meals were more important
Than whatever she might say
She just kept on singing
Lost inside the song
Escape from her reality
Just three minutes long

His face was turning red before
The young man took the stage
His movement stiff and awkward
Like his brain just disengaged
Forgot the words the first time
Then started up once more
Dead on key, the sound was gold
As he looked at the floor

The crowd ignored the whole event
Pretending not to see
Wondering about the time
Or what was on TV
He just kept on singing
Pure as morning rain
Short three minute heaven
This world could not contain

Ancient lines stood out upon
His weathered old stone face
He’d seen a thousand microphones
Each in a different place
Played his magic guitar strings
With well worn expertise
Gravel voice croaked out the tune
Like a dusty summer breeze

The crowd turned to watch the show
Forgot about his beer
The aging barfly coughed once
Then choked back a tear
The old man kept on singing
As he had through out his life
He loved the songs like children
And the singing, like a wife

© 2016 Barnett Productions