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Even in Silence

I'm pushed and played, my sides are broken. 

my life is short, yet people play me on and on. 

I like this torture, my pain is my canvas. 

the music goes on, the wind blows softly. 

even in silence, I sense being touched. 

by the old man,
who has forgotten how to play. 

I want to be tortured, to see him be happy. 

because no piano wants to be unplayed. 





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