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Troubadour
A poet, maybe
Words musically flow from his lips
A vagrant to anywhere he may travel
Instrument in hand, this street urchin
Will charm away your change
Only to ramble onward, toward another nowhere
A poet, maybe
Words musically flow from his lips
A vagrant to anywhere he may travel
Instrument in hand, this street urchin
Will charm away your change
Only to ramble onward, toward another nowhere
Very nice. I have read several of your
poems. Enjoyed them very much.