The Homeless of Piccadilly Gardens

His coat spread on the ground
His dog curled up at his feet
Guitar case open facing the crowd
The gentleman had his stage set

Strumming the guitar with a far off look
He delved into melodies that suddenly took
The listeners into his own world unknown
Painted pictures myriad as by only him seen

His sorrows, his pain, the love he lost
His rise, his fall and experiences that cost
A life that was once his, full to the brim
With joy and warmth and lived by a zesty him

His songs filled the gardens, all others mute
Time stood still and only the vibrating notes
Moved all present as one, a tale so familiar
Of things seen, heard and hoped for better

Here he was, alone but not lonely
His faithful dog, his only company
The Guitar case now filled with money
Amidst a crowd with feelings one too many

For his songs had touched every heart present
The melody brought forth by his sorrow inherent
Had awoken the compassion within every being
Sowing thought, being human is the only way of living