Under The Cafe Lights

When I was just about to sit on my chair,
I changed my mind and went to another.
Now there you are,
On the seat that was supposed to be mine.

The wind blew colder
As you held the frets of your guitar tighter.
It sees like you would never let go,
Strumming and plucking on those cold nylon strings.

Every note that you left hanging in the air -
I picked them out one by one.
I tried to make a movie in my head.
A short clip of the passion in your song.

There goes the last strike of your fingers,
slowly taken away by the silence
and by the awe you have left me with.
The lights were turned off.

Each one of them flickered out into the dark.
I was left contemplating
Now on the same chair -
That I was suppose to sit upon.

But you sat and spun your melodies instead.
Here I am, still sitting
Seeing you in my mind
Hearing the song that you played

Over and over again.