New music piece from me based on these current times. Video credits: Pixabay.
Ps sorry, Google translate has screwed up my poem.
A poem by patient X
I sit in the garden on a dry cold day, I hear the train depart, passing my way,
Filled with jobless masked hidden faces, praying to bring joy to their children's faces.
Christmas shopping in ghostly town, little money their faces frown.
I stare over rusted gate and watch the world go by,
I hear a piano concerto and singing birds fly.
This weathered cracked garden wall, I watch squirrels play and fall.
Beethoven buskers begging to survive, amongst the desperate trying to stay alive.
Collected coins and blowing notes, folk rush by in winter coats.
Politicians rant with fake media news, my moment with Jochen we play the blues.
Lonely elders crying for help, through frosted glass whom many pass.
This garden of music, with dancing chimes, I sit on bench in darker times.
As christmas nears we have no fears.
Our family join together with laughter and tears.
I sit in the garden on a dry, cold day and hear the train go by.
Filled with unemployed masked hidden faces, the best to please the faces of your children.
Christmas shopping in the ghost town, little money, faces frown.
I stare over a rusted gate and watch the world go by.
I hear a piano concert and singing birds fly.
That weathered cracked garden wall, I see squirrels play and fall.
Beethoven's street musicians begging for their survival amid desperate attempts to stay alive.
Collected coins and blowing banknotes, people rush by in winter coats.
Politicians complain with fake media news, my moment with Jochen we play the blues.
Lonely elders screaming for help through frosted glass that many pass .
In this music garden with dancing Windspiele, I sit on a bench in darker times.
Shortly before Christmas we are no longer afraid.
our family, join us with laughter and tears.