Poetic Just Us (An encore)

(5^th and last of a mini-series of taking poetic license)

Three players on the sidewalk,
Watching passersby and listen to their talk;
That’s just us.

Together we used to make music;
We were quite therapeutic;
That was just us.

We played rock, funk, and blues;
Now we never make the news;
That’s just us.

We’ve been put out to pasture,
Open to any snatcher;
That’s just us.

You may also want to read the rest of the series:
1st
2nd
3rd
4th

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