The House Of Fame Poem by Richard Randolph

I waited outside the House of Fame
as there was nothing else to do.
Then, when nearly all hope was loss,
an important woman noticed me there.
She took my hand and said I had promise
before disappearing into a well-lit hall.
Soon afterward, the large doors closed
and it was very dark, and I was cold.
But I could still hear the music playing
and see people on a moonlit balcony.
Alone, I looked up at the stars,
wondering if I'd ever see her again,
but I never did, and then the years slowly passed,
and I heard she'd died alone somewhere
far from the House of Fame without any friends.
I was more sad than words can express,
but not knowing what else to do,
still I waited.