As The Sky Falls

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A piece of music twinkled in his ears.
And he smiled, forgetting his fears.
Does he know this music?
He does not.
But does he care?
He does not.

Instead,
He chooses to sit on that bench,
Listen to the French
In their romantic native tongue,
Listen as their words sung
And hung
Low in the realization that yes,
He, too, is young.

Notes scattered past his eyes,
And he wondered if that was the song.
The staccatos,
Marcattos,
Allegros,
And ritardandos.

The key turns sharp,
And like a snap,
He is brought into a new world,
A new sight,
A new flight.

He is contempt,
Sitting on his bench,
Listening to the song,
Listening to the French,
Listening to
The staccatos,
Marcattos,
Allegros,
And ritardandos.
Watching as the notes pass by
His eyes.
Watching as the sky
Falls from up so high.

Him and his little bench,
His little tune,
As the sky falls like a high-rising dune. 

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