“Ten more minutes,”

She softly pleads,

And the man lets her stay

He knows her,

Knows her home,

A place of sadness,

Of pain

  

But as the room darkens,

And the only light

Shines from the city

Through the window,

Cold lights

And warmth from the music

   

Her fingers still caress

Each smooth key

And she knows,

The neon glows

From outside,

Calling her home

 

The man comes again,

And before he can speak

She only nods,

Fingers stilled,

Her once-powerful music

Meek

 

She sighs,

Says “goodnight,”

And stands up to leave,

But casts one last,

Longing glance

At the dull ivory keys

 

Dusty, forgotten

Her old friend she found

As a little girl,

In a room,

Unused,

On the forgotten second-floor

  

The boardinghouse

Down the street,

She had revisited

For years

Growing up,

The place where she hid

 

She smiles weakly,

Her lips tremble,

Her eyes swim and haze

And she goes home,

Alone,

Where no music plays

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