Poem about him

Money?

Not.

Fast cars?

Not.

Love?

Not.

The sea?

Not.

Snow?

Not.

A green meadow full of flowers?

Sunset?

Peace?

Nah!

So what drives him?

He was sitting alone.

In the dark.

With a glass of wine.

With a lit cigarette.

From time to time, a pen could be heard writing on paper.

He didn't know how to explain that he wasn't interested in anything mentioned above.

And they paid a lot.

They also promised a car.

And the sea.

And snow.

And everything that money can buy.

He did not reveal the secret to them.

He did not reveal that silence drives him.

Silence had no price for him.

He was an excellent writer!

Author: Musician

Thanks a lot for reading.

Lead image source: unsplash.com