The Guitar Man

The Guitar Man sits on the street
Playing a solemn song
Watching people in Gucci shades
Looking at him as though he has done wrong

He plays some song from passed years
And some new ones too
No one really listens too him
Only a motley few

He's been there for a few years
Growing older each day
But then someone walked passed him
Then looked back his way

It was just a teenager
Black top, torn jeans
Who's eyes were blue as the ocean
And as deep as the seas

He sat down and listened
To this mans guitar strings
He was playing some Johnny Cash
And along with him he sings

It was getting late
Around seven o'clock
The teen got up from his perch
And looked down at his watch

He heard hurried footsteps
Behind him, he turned around
He got a punch full in the face
And fell hard hitting the ground

The guitar it suddenly stopped
And the old man got up from his seat
Running towards the gang
Knowning he would be beat

The youths they too pounded him
And one leaped out with a knife
The Guitar Man let out a sharp breathe
As he slowly lost his life

The gang they looked in horror
As The Guitar Man's lips turned blue
They removed their hoods from their heads
It was his fans, his motley few.

It was in all the papers
"Two attacked by youths
One was a teenage boy
The other, no one knew"

They all forgot about the Guitar Man
Who's music once filled their streets
All but one, the teenage boy
Who strummed in the Guitar Man's old seat.