He sat there his instrument in hand
Carefully strumming his guitar.
Everywhere you look is entertainment
Everywhere you look is a crowd.
He sat there playing his guitar
Strumming strings and playing chords.
His words drowned out
But by the applause of those not his.
He sat there strumming his song
His fingers about to go numb.
And yet all the while, he thinks
I know one day, someone would notice
I know someone will.
For months on end he sat there –
at his sidewalk spot
Strumming. Playing. Hoping.
Praying. Waiting. Desperate.
Then a little boy happened to pass by and listened
And as the nickel dropped onto his case, he smiled
Yes. This is the beginning.