The song of the busker

There is no light and no song
an' no rain an' no sunshine
left in my poetry
only mist only mist only
The big bad blue mist
if I need to be busking for
An old online sugar daddy
Busking for daddy
Busking for daddy
Busking for ol' daddy
There is no love no light left
in me if I must touch with
my pen an old codger's half-died
masculinity
half-died
masculinity-
half-died
masculinity
There is no light and no song
Left in my poetry
Let the big blue bad mist hide
All my poetry

Reviews

[Jimmy Crapped Corn]

Your poetry leaves me . . .wanting more of you. . Great writing

[Tania Mo]

Gee thanks. I will.

[Jaffer]

Very nice poem my dear. Do you know busking started in Arabia? Very interesting I know. It's a nice art form and we like.

[Tania Mo]

Thank you Jefferson

[AJNJ]

Is this a lament of some sort? As if you ran out of words or something. Knowing you, I doubt it but good to see something posted by you after pretty long Tania. Just check if busker is grammatically correct. The rest reads pretty much like a song.

[Tania Mo]

Oooooh thanks Aj.

[AJNJ]

No worries. Lucky sugar daddy though.🤩