She stands in the corner alone,
barely a thought passes her way,
barely a glance.
She sighs as she remembers the girls fingers,
stroking her strings, holding her, making music,
but not anymore,
she sits alone wishing for the master to come
and play, but he doesn’t come.
The days go on without music, she is alone.
In response to the December writing challenge. Alone Day four. (a day late)