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Music Man


When the suns out,


He can be seen walking up and down the fast-paced streets of South Independence,

or cruising along the uneventful sides of Lynnhaven Parkway

Other times, he may be on the corner of Salem Crossing, where chick fila, McDonalds and Walmart meet in sweet harmony towards obesity and overspending


I once saw him on Dahlia Drive

Rockin’ out near the High School


Guitar in hand, small amplifier attached, Hair out, wild and free



All his own


A celebrity in my mind, in many minds, I'm sure.


I can never hear his music,

I only see him, 

when I'm in my car, driving by-

I see him


In this magical place he seems to be moving in,

playing in,

being in.


I thought he was a bit mad at first, when I saw him, a few years ago

And now…

I think he’s brilliant


It’s his thing.

Long hair blowing in wind, lips moving, guitar doing its thing


All in cohesion


Music man

A true artist


Keep playing your music

For its being heard

And enjoyed, even though…

It may never be heard


All of it,

true beauty-

true music.