a corky young man,
at the age of 25,
miles away from home,
on a stage,
his natural habitat
His movements are stiff,
often forced, unwilling and odd
until the music starts
and causes the melting
there's something frightened
in this boy's smile
as he stands ready
to welcome the crowd
as tries to look cool
tries not to laugh
he's touched by the looks
he received for a while
horribly embarassed by the rose
that found its way into his arms
still trying to look cool
and not to mind
he stands there alone
on the stage in the dark
preparing to sing
his soul's art.
only another second
and he's sure it'll be done
he'll be safe
out there in the back
but for now the show must go on
he must see to relax
sing his own songs
for himself and his bright eyes
dedicated to Conor Oberst and his wonderful art
Edwin van Rossen: | Zondag, februari 27, 2005 14:23 |
nienk: | Zaterdag, februari 26, 2005 13:45 |
schitterend gedicht liefs, |
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Auteur: ~Tanith~ | ||
Gecontroleerd door: klitty | ||
Gepubliceerd op: 26 februari 2005 | ||
Thema's: |