.
.
I’m not allowed on the other side so I busk here. I try to stop you by singing All by Myself, but you walk on by. I sing Walk on By, and guess what, you walk on by.
In my upturned cap, there’s a handful of coppers, a pound coin and a screwed up chocolate wrapper. You’re probably thinking ‘he’s on drugs or booze and if I give him money he’ll spend it on his habit’. I can’t blame you. I look a little scruffy, very scruffy. Dirty even.
You strut past like a peacock pretending not to notice me. I watch you and your mates leaving McDonald’s. I doubt you’re even hungry. But me? I’m bloody starving and I’ll probably have to go another day without proper food.
See him, on the other side? Him with trendy clothes and a smug look on his face? We were mates years ago. Last time I saw him I was Jack the Lad. I remember giving him a bed for the night and a square meal or two when he was going through hard times. Now he pretends not to know me. But I don’t care.
No, actually, I do.
Smile. Sing your heart out. Give ‘em a dose of soul music. Show ‘em Elvis lives. Soon I’ll cross to the other side. I will.
Please God, please say I will.
.
.
Thanks to Jenne Gray and C.E.Ayr for hosting The Unicorn Challenge
aw……)))))
Thanks, Beth!
We fail to realize sometimes that beneath that scruffy exterior is a person just like us. I really enjoyed this, Keith.
So true, Jodi. Thank you.
Surprisingly poignant piece, Keith.
Love it.
I thought I’d have a go at something different! Thanks so much C.E.
What a poignant, interesting tale you’ve made from this prompt! I guess there are various reasons for busking. Some may be this desperate. I also heard of one enterprising young man who paid university fees through busking.
Indeed there are, Christine. I have to admire that young man!
A very moving monologue
Thank you so much, Sadje.
You’re very welcome
So, I accept that I’m the third person to use ‘poignant’ for this story – but it’s exactly the word and the thesaurus doesn’t tell me any different.
I have a sore spot for this busker – and for so many others, whose stories we don’t have time to find out about.
Beautifully written, Keith.
You’ve left me with food for thought.
(Oops, unfortunate choice of word there…)
There are different types of buskers, those that need to, those that want to and more besides.
I’m for ever wishing there was a suitable synonym for poignant, but there really isn’t! Thank you so much for using it on this occasion, I’m truly thankful.
Keith, this piece hits me right in the gut. It’s raw and beautifully human—quietly defiant, painfully honest, and full of soul.
~David
I’m so pleased it came across that way. Thanks so much for your generous words, David.
🤗
Some buskers are really good, and I have been known to dance to some (crutches come to mind). Sad story Keith.
Thanks, Di.
There are some great ‘professional’ ones! A guy near me never fails to draw a crowd!
We’ve heard some good ones but the wailing Willies were in Poole!
Everyone needs to give grace, we never know when we’ll need to receive it.
I quite agree, Mimi.
That was so sad. But, of course, well done, Keith.
Thanks for your kind words, Chris.
A heart breaking story Keith. Well penned, truth.
Thanks so much, Suzette.
and yet who can say what they see beyond the footlights (real or metaphorical)
…sorry to go all left field, but seeing how others took the ‘P word’ and totally did it proper, didn’t want to take a chance…
good ‘corn yo