The Guitar Player

by Robert Neest

While sitting on a long and wooden chair

A lonely girl is playing the guitar

And when the left hand slowly moves along

The right hand gently touches the mild strings.

The room is empty and the lights are dimmed,

The walls are dark and distant around her

And hidden from the sight of anyone

But still surrounding her from every side.

The woman has a white and lovely dress

With wide black belt surrounding her small waist,

A blue thin ribbon holding her red hair

While looks aside with white and sorry face.

A noise is heard and makes her raise her eyes,

The door is open and the light fills in,

She’s standing while her eyes have tears of joy

And stretches out her arms when seeing him.

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Waiting

Waiting by Robert Neest A tall and wooden window’s open wide And lets the early summer sunshine slip Inside the dimly lit and narrow room And draw few feeble shadows on the walls. Beside the window stands a girl and looks Towards a very distant place, away From where she stays with shoulders brought in front While arms are tightly held around her waist. She wears a lively coloured graceful dress With stylish shoes that are her favourite pair And light shines on her nicely done hair To make her look so beautiful and young. With trembling hands she reads again the message, As she has done since she received the news, When several tears are falling from her eyes And then are slowly rolling down her face.

A Dream

A Dream by Robert Neest The son of young and working man and wife A two-year-old boy lived in a small flat, Inside a basement of a building was What they could pay from their modest wage. The parents left the place that they were born And went away from their home and friends, Were forced by lack of chances to build up A decent life for their family. Arrived in a new country they were firm In their will to strive for a new life And get for their son what they had not, To grow with hope of better days ahead. O ne night , a storm was hitting their town And massive floods were reaching their street, A brutal burst inside the place they were And died the m o ther, father and the son.

Why

Why by Robert Neest There are some people living among us, Most of the time they’re rich with higher ranks And looking down on everybody as They think themselves superior to all. When seeing that they have all they would need And even more while others strive to live Is giving them a pleasure they enjoy And makes them feel accomplished their li ves . So many times they’ re doing harm around, To see folks suffer being their goal And live the main desire they possess To be the bigger, better, s tronger ones. The sweet and mighty moment’s passi ng fast, Th en feel an emptiness that grows inside While letting them without the knowledge why It is themselves the ones that suffer most.

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