When writing this, I felt very challenged because I had never written and Ode, or any type of poetry, before. When my English teacher gave me this assignment, I felt very out of place, but I wanted to make the reader feel something. So, I decided to write about an object that is out of place, but still makes me feel something. 

My grand piano, that my family got when I was six years old, is on it last leg. It is so old and worn, and no one ever plays it because it is so out of tune. (Hence the term "dead rain"). Although its considered "junk" to other people, it hold alot of memories for me, and if I think back through my childhood, it has always been there. Through deaths in the family, holidays, and sucess, its always been there; absorbing anything that comes it's way.