The Groupie Poem by Nancy Ames

The Groupie



'Musicians never talk;
their fingers cannot lie;
they bow their heads and walk,
perpetually shy.

Arrangements are uptight;
you're angry when you play;
applause fills up the night
and I am blown away.

White moon on midnight lake
and waves of radio,
a dance that I can't fake,
I drown in afterglow.'

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Nancy Ames

Nancy Ames

Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
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