Poem Hunter
A Buskers Life For Me
MH ( / Lydney, Gloucestshire, UK)

A Buskers Life For Me

Every morning I get up at eight,
And get dressed in a hurry so that I won't be late,
To go to the job centre and join the queue,
Of people who have no job to go to. I look at the boards but theres nothing for me,
For I have no skills at all you see,
So once more I leave and go on my way,
And wonder just how I will spend my day. I stroll pass the shops and stop and stare,
At the numbers of buskers I see there,
it they can do it and earn a living,
Then I can give as much as they're giving. So I sit down my hat on the ground,
And start to sing to all around,
But people pass by without a glance,
With my kind of voice I don't stand a chance. Then this little girl comes up to me,
And holds out her hand so that I can see,
The money that she's holding there,
And she looks at me with her childlike stare. And say's' I like humpty dumpty the best'
So now I really am put to the test,
For the nursery rhymes that I know are few,
But I'll do the best that I can do. And would you believe it the children all stop,
And into my hat the money they'd drop,
So at the end of the day a rich man am I,
A nursery rhyme busker will be my job till I die.

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