MY ENVY

MY ENVY…

It is the beauty that I have always envied,

The back seat do I often take,

Taking in that harmony of the soothing guitar,

Why can’t I play that? I wonder, I wish I was that good…

Am still getting used to this fact,

Yet with no cue, the saxophonist’s sweet pierce of sound disrupts my thought…

It plays on and on and on and on and on…

This is heavenly I must admit…. Why is it only them to play,

 I bet they are not even human…. If I can’t do that, then who can,

Unless of course ordained in heaven….

I stare from my habitual spot,

And they sport their art like exhaustion does not exist, 

And tears roll unheeded from my eyes…

Why are they so good?

I know I belong with them;

 the art of harmony could be my trade too

That one, they call Maurice, he sings

I sip on my drink, watching, taking in, absorbing…envying…

I will find my way to where he stands, not like him maybe,

Not like many other brothers and lovers of the trade maybe,

 But I will be there, professing a similar creed,

The poetic beauty that burns my bosom…

I shall quench that thirst…envy no more, 

and be an envy of another like me

And then you will smile, 

stand in ovation, weep or thank deity for me too

While others may not… 

but I care more for the fact that I will be living that that I dream

And my thirst will be quenched….

hmmm ahhh it sure will feel like heaven…

No more shall i envy......