The week was a good one.
The weather was nice.
Many hours did I practice
Wanted to be precise
In performance of the pieces
We'd agreed upon for that night.
On arrival, just one hour ahead
Of the one at which we would start,
Something strange, seemed was brewing.
Our mere presence surprising,
Was causing a real disconcert.
The appearance of a fellow troubadour
Brought the feeling of sickness inside.
He was there, just like us, to play music tonight.
At the sight of each other, we sighed.
It's got to the point it's mundane, with this place,
A routine like a supper that's cooked.
You see now, once again, for whatever the reason,
She most certainly has double-booked.
What do you think? Tell me at
https://rayjozwiak.com/contact
https://rayjozwiak.comhttps://rayjozwiak.com/contact
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