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She Plays Me

Her sad eyes hid in caverns dark,
her bruised lips swelled and dried;
I saw her sitting in the rain,
as faceless men – walked by.

A child twined in vines of lies,
with tattered clothes and hair;
I saw her drowning in the rain,
as blind men blocked – her stare.

I asked my pop if we could stop,
and see what we could do;
he said my lessons could not wait,
and pulled me passed her – too.

Her one eye twitched as I drug passed,
her lips turned blue and gray;
I saw her dying in the rain,
and never learned – her name.

It’s why my music – cries – today;
she plays me – every string;
she lives on – beyond that rain,
inhabiting – my dream.

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12 thoughts on “She Plays Me

  1. dang man….this makes me wonder at the rest of the story….and that this scene is why music lives on today, because she haunts you…def one to stick in your head…a vivid memory man…

  2. That video is haunting, thanks for introducing me to a talented artist ~

    Your words are equally lovely, seeing her dying in the rain…and now her music lives in you ~

  3. Wow this gave me chills ….great and sad write about a monumental memory of childhood and the lack of humanity in man …loved it thank you so much for sharing x x

  4. “I saw her sitting in the rain,
    as faceless men – walked by” … This is great. So many possible interpretations: she sat in the rain like a faceless man; she sat in the rain as faceless men walked by; she sat … as you walked by

    “A child twined in vines of lies” … Excellent line.

    “and never learned – her name” … Seriously, those dashes were a brilliant addition. They allow the reader to play with meaning, while adding a nice heavy pause for thought.

    This is my favorite part:
    “It’s why my music – cries – today;
    she plays me – every string”

    Great work, Henry. Loved this.

  5. Henry, this is so pure and genuine. ‘Twined, tattered, and drowning’, the image showers in the words you have picked. I am hopeful for her spirit, she is alive beyond the mist. Excellente, very much so enjoyed. 🙂

  6. Henry, at first I thought it was the cello speaking, but no, I watched and listened as she played me, too. Had me by the heart. Bless you for writing such a gorgeously sad, haunting poem from this video. You amaze me, and the line, “A child twined in vines of lies” is fantastic, the internal rhyme as well as the image. Superb. Peace, Amy

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