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I practice day and night, never stoping. It is my food, my joy and my life. It is the sound of my bow gliding across the strings. I play on the street cornor, hoping someone with happen by and like it. I pray they put money in the case that I've left open. If they don't, I'm not eating again tonight. They say that I'll never make it in the world. They also say that they love me and want me to do well, but if that was true they'd help me. I met him on the streets. Actually he needed a place to hide and my hole in the wall is where he hid. The police all swarmed into my home. They asked me if I knew him, where he was, what my name was. I told them the truth: no, no and not happening. If they needed me, they knew where to find me. It's not like I had the ability to leave. He popped out from behind my mirror. I nearly bashed his face in. I demanded answers. Who he was, was he the guy the police were after, what he wanted. His name is Jared. I tell him my name, Kaitlyn. He thanks me for not ratting him out to the cops, I tell him that I didn't know that he was here. He walks around the small room I call my home, filled with things people have dumped here over time. When he come across the piano, I saw in his face what the same feeling I have when I see a violin. We practice day and night, never stoping. It is our food, our joy and our life. It is the sound of the notes melding together, in harmony. We play on the street cornor, hoping someone with happen by and like it. We pray they put money in the case that I've left open. If they don't, We're not eating tonight. But we still have hope that things will get better, we have each other and our music. Things will not always be this hard for us.
