And He Just Sang

The alternative among the folk purists,
I almost wore the Aladdin Sane tee
with the burgundy pants,
but reasoned that the material
could speak for itself.

A set sandwiched between
old school finger picking
railroad themes
and a trio
harnessing the ancient spirit
of early Appalachian mountain music.

A minimal crowd forms
and there is always a possibility
to divert from the blueprint of a plan
if you find disinterest,
to inject a tune familiar
to pander in the attempt
to win them over.

But today,
unlike other days
I am secure in my selections.

The first chord,
introducing my views of love,
scorched and still ready
to follow each lesson.

Without any adjustments,
I flow through eight songs
layered in confessions,
invented expressions
that ask to be sung.

Never to see a friend emerge from the crowd
beyond the supportive musicians
and the unsuspecting listeners.

But trusting in myself,
delivering a flawless forty minutes
accepting my vision.

It may be hard to wind down,
over twenty years of gigs
in bands, alone
and I finally get to taste
personal acceptance.

Written by Tenderloin
Author's Note
Insecurity in trusting artistic visions, overthinking and relying on outside approval.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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