My last song

The curtains open, a dimmed spotlight
Shines on me tonight
The seats are empty and cold,
But I decide to continue to my spot

Through the orchestra of trees
A sweet melody, soft as a breeze
Tickles my cords and I begin to sing,
My opera filling the seats more and more
With pale faces.

But the orchestra abruptly stops,
Being replaced by violins of crickets,
I decide then to jodel,
In between the seats where the faces smiled widely
And watched me with sunken eyes.

But even that wasn't good enough,
As they enjoyed the snuff
Of my life and my talents
With those stoned gazes and broad smiles.

I decide to crouch down onto the softness of the ground,
Where I found
A whistle in the silence of the night.
Thinking, they'll enjoy something more subtle.

But they even disapproved of that,
And as the night grew to a halt
I reached out my hand
But the pale bones didn't care
They silently laughed as I crippled...
Away.

Finally, I laid my head against one of the graves,
Breaking free from being one of life's slaves
And with my last breath
I sang my final silent hushed lullaby
Returning to the place where I belong

© Franklin J. Stadler