sits upon an open book
holding a violin
hoping someone would just look

walks upon pages of un written music
pulls out a bow and places it quietly upon the strings
watching as you pass by

reading between the lines of forgotten notes
playing the sadness that seems to envelope my every move
you do not look, you do not even hear the cries

screamed back at you ten times the power
but you are deaf
and do not notice that i would just long for you to hear
the sadness that the world creates in me
the sadness that i play for the world
but it is
only you can not hear me

and so i have played this song
the first
and the last time
that i spilled my heart out
and got it rejected yet again

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