*Based on The Weary Blues, a poem By Langston Hughes

Sitting back into the chair, rocking back and forth.

Listening to the soft tunes
That plays through the saxophone
I soon feel dreadful, because I thought about my mother.
And the struggle she faced.
Every day.
I can relate to the words,

While I rock to the tune. He sings,
“I have no money”
“My bills are due”
“I have a drink”
“Enough to wake up at two”
Maybe even a smoke too
I couldn’t believe someone could, sing something that inflicts so much pain.
But they continue to bellow out the words.

I ride home to check my mail.
lights, gas, water, cable, visa, heat,
All the bills are due by the end of the month!
Tomorrow.