Room of Tufts

The paint glows in the night,
Illuminating my fault,
She takes my hand and holds on tight,
Searching for a key to my vault;
She has been looking a long time,
Wondering about the boy inside the man,
And there is a belief etched in her face,
That a lifting truth will come from her plan;
All these years my reputation has grown,
How nice, kind and sensitive he is,
Word of mouth building a myth,
A false prophet in our friends’ mist;
Her eyes are aglow now beside Earth’s colours,
A sharp blue contrasting with them all,
Piercing my own blue in complete futility,
Making her leave, deaf to my call;
The key she wants was lost by an ex,
Whose passage I allowed so I could hear her sing,
I lost the one who held the key last,
When she tossed it aside for alcohol and a fling;
And as I see my new fancy walk away forever,
I know there is no hope, even at the end,
And when they all learn what I really am,
I will not have a single friend.

And up in the sky, in my windless room of tufts,
I will see rebukes, rejections, and repeated rebuffs.