The Pattern Of The Problem

You appeared that night
calm appreciation
in a long forgotten town

You were the only person listening
and you sat in the front row

I strummed my guitar
and tried to project my song
above the boisterous crowd

It was busy
and I knew many faces
but I didn't know yours

So I sang to you
my audience of one

When the gig was over
you had evaporated
and I was alone

I married a woman
the following year

She was ruthless
and you found me
in the wreckage
of tears and humiliation

It was just another
in a laundry list
of failures

I never wanted to love again
and I submerged myself
into that failure
written on the marquee
of the theatre restored
in my hometown
for all to see

You assessed my damage
and drew your own conclusions

You saw the truth in me
for many years to follow
and lead me away
in your protective clutch

We designed that life
of my fatal mistake
and here we sit
reflecting back over the years
in a stuffy office
being advised
to go back to the beginning