Musical Scars

A serenade - Repeating in the rut Of an old 45 Plays through the broken window Mindless and muffled The few notes echo through The lonely room Then dissapate into mindless thoughts. Abandoned by laughter, Love and hope The repetition brings A weary comfort. Numbness grows Or maybe It's death's cold hand. Either will bring relief Both will bring scars. Faded walls of forlorn glory Hold a truth That can't be seen yet is felt with every note Here the shadows Catch the sun And deliverance Is just a name