the flute player

The flute player

Under the shades of trees

Sitting on the bench

Playing his sad melody

The birds stop by to listen

The insects and bees stay on the leaves

Listening to his sad whispering

The flute player sings with his fingers

The ills of the nation

The weak government hiding in shadows

Afraid to see the truth

The extremist groups playing up the issues

They called themselves hero of their race

The truth is the race never encouraged them

The race never endorsed their kind

They will bring chaos and unhappiness

The flute player keeps playing

The quick fingers hitting the chords

The sad melody ringing in the silent wind

Of a time we lived in peaceful carefree ways