The First Quiet Room

The shoes were polished, black and bright,

reflecting squares of dim, hushed light.

My suit, it scratched, too big and warm,

a tiny man caught in a storm

of grown-up sighs. The velvet drape,

a heavy silence, no escape.

Too many flowers, sweet and deep,

a sleepy perfume, meant to keep

us calm. I watched the faces blur,

and felt the stiff collar, a stir

of something new, like air too thick.

My throat went tight, a sudden click

of knowing, that some things just end.

This quiet room, without a friend.