The Dim Room

Fri, 10/31/2014 - 00:13 -- brynmae
The cello sat in the corner
Dim charcoal cords run down its spine
Still untouched and without pure rhyme
Like a sparrow, whose lost their voice

Gathering blue dust and gray lights
Rained days no different than rained nights

Yet the chairs are together now
The chorus begins their song
I still stand here, no voice nor hum
Like before, a jar out of place

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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