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Poem

The music played without a word.
A misconception's all I heard.
And by the time I got too old.
The love inside her heart turned cold.

But no one seemed to pay attention.
No one would mention an intervention.
The time just kept ticking away.
And Cupid had nothing to say.

You drink alone up at the bar.
Just reaching for that small town star.
And end up walking home alone.
Where all you hears a dial tone.

There's mystic haze around the moon.
That fills the summer nights in June.
But to a man with long lost hope.
The magic's gone from that trick rope.

So when the world turns half around.
And you wake to your own heart pound.
You can't help wonder why you'd pray.
To make it through another day.

But here you are still unassumed.
Where dusty dreams are kept ungroomed.
And only lonesome songs are played.
In dim lit corners of sun set shade.

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