Ray (Based on a True Story)

Your name was as it sounded-a candle in the dark,to guide me through the tunnelsplaying melodies of larks.Rejected from fine Julliard,you swayed as you played Bach,when they offered you a golden seatshould you flourish with the flock.They felt that you were talented,but must step into place,when they noted that your movementswere preventing you from grace.But…

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There‚Äôs a nail on the wall -tilted and pocked above some half-chalked sketch of a man paying no mind to the chrysanthemums. He, who makes no fuss about the lights being on or off, stills in the room that studies his window, and welcomes us with the same worn-out expression we oblige. Out of formality…