Grey | Teen Ink


February 1, 2019
By bkripa1 BRONZE, Bangalore, Other
bkripa1 BRONZE, Bangalore, Other
1 article 0 photos 1 comment

The piano sits in the empty house.
Dust settling on her sheen of black.
The stool stood beneath her;
Waiting for warmth.
Warmth that would relive the music.
Keys sound from within.
The hammer waits for the string;
Two lovers waiting to re-unite.
The blacks and whites continue their separation;
A continuity of apartheid.
My fingers release the distance.
Slim and long...
Waltzing on the keys.
Apartheid is broken!

Hammer and string give birth to music.
Music which fills the empty house,
Like air capturing space.
Every note echoes and spins
Drifts into oblivion.
Taking music along…

The author's comments:

My name is Kripa Bansal, and I'm a 17 year old blogger and the founder of Pandemonium Literary Magazine. I'm from a bustling metropolitan city in India, Bangalore. When I'm not jotting down the muses of my brain, you can see me trying to get througe IB Diploma, or binge-watching Suits on Netflix. 

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This article has 2 comments.

bkripa1 BRONZE said...
on Feb. 6 2019 at 11:59 am
bkripa1 BRONZE, Bangalore, Other
1 article 0 photos 1 comment
@lizhutch Thank you so much! :)

on Feb. 5 2019 at 1:47 pm
lemons-all-the-way-down BRONZE, Fort Smith, Arkansas
2 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
"The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast." - Oscar Wilde

I really love this poem. I think it's so pretty! The imagery you used really sets the scene and makes it feel very real.