Meant to be

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The very first time they played together

They were both young and new

And all life was in front of them

They met at the back of the store

Were she used to work a long time ago

Selling dreams and musical instruments

She was just out of teenhood, the youngest one

Not a wrinkle on her face yet, minimum wages

And he was just as brand new, then

When the store was empty of clients

Shy notes sounded from the back of the store

Where they were playing together

She wanted him and their harmony each day more

But that was not possible, cause money rules the world

And soon life parted them and he stayed behind

Many years later, money still rules the world of men

And the small shop is closing like many others now

Like a book comming to it's end, all things shall pass

So now she comes back for the last time

To her favorite old shop where she learned to work

But with tears in her eyes, in memory of past friendship

The old boss greets one of his past crew member

With a hug and smilling, like they parted just yesterday

She dries her tears cause he's hopeful for the future

And they talk about the good old times,

and the jams and the fun, and the hard times

And the hard choice that must be taken to close everything.

The old boss says "I have no idea what I will be doing next year

But I know I will be having some fun!" Of this she has no doubt!

Memories comes...sitting in his office... sharing weed and philosophy...

But suddenly a sight catches her attention

From the back of the store... Could it be?

Could it really be him?

She walks slowly to the back of the store with an escort of memory ghosts

Guitar sold to happy clients... Wonder do they still play now?

What will happen now to these walls that heard so many songs?

At the back yes... there he was... still there how could it be??

Was it 13 or 15 years ago? Last time their bodies brushed

Last time she touched his soft neck... She had almost forgotten him...

But he was not the same anymore, neither was she

Somethings can never be restored to their original state

Time through us makes his scratches and cracks

"What happened to you my old friend?" She asked to the old broken cello...

Softy she let her fingers caress the soft, now stringless neck

"What has time done to us all?"

To her amazement the instrument replied in a low hushed voice:

"My love... I was waiting, cracked and broken, for you to return.

I was forgotten here such a long time. Hoping to one day feel you again."

Right away she knew that they were always meant to be, from the start.

They were the same when they were new, and now they both had scratches and cracks

Those cannot be fixed but still they wanted to play and were 100% alive.

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