Poems for Pieces by Artists Profiled

The man didn't have a lot left.
His wife had died from a serious illness.
He retired from his job decades ago.
And all his children had left him to start their own families.
He was all alone all of the time.
All he had to fill the silence of loneliness was his guitar.
His calloused fingers would pluck the strings.
And the hole would be filled everytime.
But even so he would think of all he'd lost.
In an effort to overcome this loss, he tried to create something.



The man looked into the mirror and wondered who he was.
It was hard for him to tell.
He'd been through so much.
He was no longer the innocent boy from Ohio.
He'd gone through many different homes.
Friendships.
Relationships.
Different phases too.
He was in a completely different place now than when he started.
So when he looked in the mirror, he was a lot of different things.