After Watching A Trailer Of Amelie

the piano plays in the dark
it is inside my mind
every note of it
i see the old man still on his trembling fingers
the sound of his music clings in the ears
of my heart

she died a long time ago
it is his inability to accept things as they are
that makes his fingers sing

it is this sadness in his heart
that makes his solitude as beautiful as ever
verily like the face of the woman he loves

it is this darkness that keeps all lights open
dusk, twilights, trailing blazes of needles of peeping light
penetrating the shutters of his window

at the end when he dies
i look at the face of the room again
stained with so much sorrow
artistically
priced without much value
the onlookers laugh
i don't
precisely i know the story and i want to write
this one
all over again
not on paper but inside my mind
my soul is the pen
my heart bleeds on paper

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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