A pianist in white
Sits down on stage
Hiding in her arpeggios
A fake cascading bliss

Her mind aches
Her fingers move gracefully
But something of a robotic nature in them
Irks the astute observer

Prying eyes scrutinize
Every soft sound made
And when she hits a red note
They are unforgiving

With a forced smile she pushes forward
A downward spiral and a flourish
As the evening bell tolls

She waits in silence for an applause
But none is heard
She looks at the pages and plays again
Now for an empty hall
Echoing with her mistakes