Road Musician

He's an aging road musician,
Still playing his guitar;
His fingers gnarled and stiffened.
Too late to be a star.

He's restless and he's rootless;
He'll never settle down.
The road goes on forever,
From town to dreary town.

He sleeps in cheap motel rooms,
And eats his meals alone.
It's been that way for years now,
And time has simply flown.

He's had his share of romance,
But that's all in the past.
He rarely thinks about it;
Love wasn't meant to last.

He doesn't write new songs now;
He sticks with what he's got.
Resigned to where fate led him —
Accepting of his lot.

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Copyright © Robert Haigh, 2020