Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Piano

Keys, black and white, slide beneath my fingers
The intertwining of melodies resonates and lingers
Crescendo builds up to its climatic peak
Music so striking that I can’s even speak
The repetitive practices take its toll
As my aching fingers lose their control
And playing only results to a clutter of noise
So loud and frustrating that it only annoys
My mom urges me to end the playing
But I enjoy the effort that I am displaying
One day I’ll be good
I know that I could
But for right now, i'll just play my best





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback