The inside voice in an outside man
Of stammering speech as life began,
A child of the times but a father of music,
A rapid advancement as the years slowly tick,
Calling heaven’s language from deep inside,
The music lands with wings astride.
Birdman sings through an incoherent mind,
Such coherent music of the gifted kind.
With all his faculties finely tuned,
The music fills the empty room.
It wanders through the silent air
And lands in the heart of dear lady fair.
The genius of the times or not at all,
But he leaves the audience totally enthralled.
Birdman has a voice of artistic desiring.
But does he know deep down inside?
I wrote this about a singer on "America's Got Talent" show last night. He was blind and autistic, but had one of the most greatest voices I've ever heard. He could hardly speak, but he sure could sing.