An old tune plays
with natural familiarity,
A thick voice heard
above the lazy music.
A few regulars
sit and listen.
While the sound of chatty
laughter infiltrates a memory.
"I'm a fool to want you, to
want a love that can't be true."
She sings with a crooked
twinkle in her eye,
Too numb to feel
the pain which once inspired her.
Straddling the line
between death and eternity,
Tears are rolling down
her face,
Her voice
shakes, her eyes
roll back.
Faint whispers
are only heard now.
The crowd unwillingly
immersed in her glory.
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