Busker Poem by Della Perry

City Square he sat, shoppers busied around him
Scarcely glancing his way
No second thoughts of how the poor fellow paid his way in life
He played the instrument wonderfully
Upper class paid high price for tickets to this kind of performance
Alas, he had been invisible all his life
You could tell by his clothes
He smiled a whimsical smile
Nevertheless, he greeted each eye that caught his
A pleasant nod of his gratitude when pennies landed in his hat
I stood and listened to his upbeat tune for a while
As shadows rushing past me,
Invisible me, pushed past, nudged in their hurry
He caught my glance, through hardship he smiled
I saw him today, a tiny frame of a man,
With ripped, torn clothes
Sat in the corner of City Square
With just one possession
Compared to the ones rushing by.
He played so wonderfully, sweetly
It was truly a gift.
But his humility was astounding.
His kindness in adversity to the ones who cared none for him.
When he finished playing
I walked by, placed notes into his hat
'Thank you, ' he nodded his head.
His eyes were sad close up,
'No, thank you, ' I replied.