The lights rise and you’re there,
Staring at the crowd, unsure if they’re to make the first move or you.
You step forward,
Your face is golden and your hands clasped.
You hold your instrument and begin to strum,
O how the angels are singing.
How did we get here?
My eyes creak open from the pale yellow sun,
I force them shut.
I need that golden warmth only a few moments longer.
It’s beautiful; I can see, I can feel.
You came to find this, not to leave.
But now it’s cold,
My shivers travel down my body and I collapse.
The cement cradles my cheek as I cry a hefty river,
As big and quick as the once we once before floated.
The lights rise,
You are no longer here.