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The secret of my piano

This piano has a secret
Please don’t tell a soul

Take a quick glance
And see the cherry wood of the piano
It is shiny and polished
Fit for someone elite
Someone more skilled than I

Look a little closer
You can see the scratch marks
Dents and cracks
From playing music in frustration

The surface feels cold
The piano has been ignored
It is lonely
It has not been played in a while
It could use some attention

Sit down at the bench
And place your fingers on the keys
Press down and listen
Listen to the different sounds
Played in unison
A chord; the basis of every piece

This instrument, it has a secret
Something you would never believe
It was used for your attention
A reason for us to speak
Something to talk about
Something in common
Making you think that I was
More cultured than I really am

This piano has a secret
Please don’t tell a soul





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