Sunday, November 30, 2008


On the paper, handwritten
there was music
From the corners of her mind
Which flew just fine years ago
She can't sit straight anymore
or touch the emotions that came along
with every note
There is trembling
frustration making her silence
so loud
she won't listen anymore
There is sore
roots glued to the ground
she can't move away

Still he wants her to stay
There are prayers every night
growing restless with each day
Hope that melts every frame of
regret once delayed
There is this undying life, anyway
inside his heart
Enough to keep memories warm and from being apart

For when the music is over
it can always start
alive, again

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