Time for another entry into my #whatpainsyouproject…
the music preceded him before
he entered the room. he took
his seat beside me, stroking
wistfully that beard of his
and said i wish i’d written
that, that song in my head but
i got lost in the things-to-do
and the things-i-wish-i’d-done.
he took a long draw from his
drink, held it like a captive bird
in his mouth and mourned the freedom
of his spirit. i mourned with him,
drank with him, listened to the
band he could not hear. we drank,
we had too many shots and cried until
i said it’s not the dollars lost
for your family, brother,
but rather the chords you strum for their hearts;
we drank together through the night,
the ballad found in his ears.
a poem for an anonymous reader and their pain…
© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.