torn book pages scattered on the street
she threw her guitar in an alley
and sighed against the grafitti
why was no one listening?
in a busy coffee shop in soho
the crowd ignores her song
she runs out of the room
no one will respect her
she was supposed to speak of love
of triumph, of marriage
but how hard that could be
when no one will love you
a midnight comedy club
full of lonely, drugged people
after collecting her tip, she disappears
if no one laughs, are you even there?
tears, always tears
an effect of the drugs and the vodka
she knew that tragedy was true
but no one listens to a hospital patient
ballet studio in the day, parties in the night
maybe if she kept her feet moving
she wouldn’t slow down enough to feel
and would be hurt by no one
an angry protester on the street
singing songs of right and wrong
trying to prove the universe’s secrets
but no one cares
she moves from man to woman to man
like the cycle of the planets she once watched
will no one stop her?
once the greatest, she has fallen far
she sits at the counter and orders another round
for the house, the only people who will listen to her song
but is no one hearing?
go home, daughters
you have descended and seen
you have kissed mortals and tasted ecstasy
will none of you return?