His Mind Is Sound Poem by Eillio Imbasciati

Spotted the drummer, right next to the strummer,
Twice on a bright corner that nonetheless feels like a bummer
Some sing, but it doesn't mean they feel the words today
But listen,
His mind is sound,
That's why he likes the music to play
On the streets, touring the philharmonic seats,
Anywhere to satiate his inner beat
All those notes are worth drafting,
Composing a harmony that passes the time with flying colors