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I saw a beggar a twanging his guitar
I saw a Buddha a playing his sitar
I heard a friend a singing real coy
I heard a child a laughing for sweet joy


How can there be a beggar playing his guitar?
How can there be a Buddha playing his sitar?
How can there be a friend singing real coy?
How can there be a child laughing for joy?


A beggar when twanging has no smiles
A Buddha when playing has no wiles
A friend when singing has no joy
A child when laughing can’t destroy
©2005-2009 ~sardonicophelia
:iconsardonicophelia:

Author's Comments

wrote this for my creative writing class. not my buddha photo.

Comments


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:iconradioappendage:
HAHAHAHA i loved it then and i love it now.
you rock my world.
:iconmrphoenix:
I really like this, you're able to keep a powerful tone throughout the poem, which is something worth commendment. It was all very good.
-Aaron

--
I have come here much too often,
My brother sleep, a relative coffin.
:iconpamzylove:
very nice riddle song :love:
:iconfaondejade:
very nice riddle song..........!
i love your sensibility !:hug:
very sweet kiss...:hug: :hug: :hug:

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February 12, 2005
661 bytes
115 KB
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