Dylan

Solitary steps echo
over a footbridge of glass,
city lights shine through like beacons

as he reaches his hotel room
random people have gathered
the intense sound of a typewriter
breaks through the music that is being played

he looks for an empty corner
sits in an overstuffed chair
leans back as he puts his boots up on the table
slowly drags his thumb across the guitar strings

every half hour that goes by 
is a week's worth of heartache
deeper goes deception 
tickets are all sold out
a stool sits alone at center stage

like gathering wilted flowers from the graves
stories of romance no longer rest here.

© Jaydean Wszolek 2009



Comments:
 
amusedeplume   amusedeplume wrote
on 7/16/2011 2:41:58 AM
You escorted me there with your words and let me be first-hand observer as if you were him telling me about a day in his life. Fabulous. Absolutely uncanny.

Starlingpoet
Poetry
Free Verse
writing Starlingpoet




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Published Date
3/21/2009 12:00:00 AM
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