Troubador

The music in his soul is sweet and clear.
It fairly tingles with the raw feeling
Of one whose struggles bubble very near
A tough but porous surface. Words reeling
Out in strains of real, personal anguish
To tell truths to those who hear, and admire
The courage to tell his stories. A wish
From a poet: would that he’d find the fire
Inside to assemble thoughts to convey
A similar sense of turmoil inside.
What these two share oft sees the light of day,
But music strikes the souls of those who’ve cried
The same tears, felt the same pain. The siren’s lure
Is palpable, the singer’s heart is pure.

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