Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by thedeafmusician, Feb 1, 2007.

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  1. thedeafmusician

    thedeafmusician Staff Alumni

    It was a black and white tuxedo in its prime
    All wood and metal
    Its tone was rich and full of vibrancy
    Plastic parts? What is plastic?
    Nope, this was a black and white tuxedo
    Of finely grained wood and ebony polish
    Many a family member had played it
    Years ago, when they were growing up
    Enjoying the works of many a musical genius

    But that is no longer
    Now it sits in the attic
    A thick layer of dust coats its once perfect keys
    That are perfect no more...
    Now they stick when played
    All cracked and yellowing..
    If you listen, you can hear the rats and other critters that live inside it
    Chewing away at the wires

    The house is different now too
    Its too quiet... dead even
    Ever since the children had flown the nest
    The house has never been the same since the music went away

    But all is not forgotten
    All these years later when I come to visit
    I let my parents do the talking
    They’re the ones that can handle it
    It’s saddening the way that the house feels dead
    It all happened when the music left

    Instead I pad as quietly as I can up the stairs
    And carefully blow the dust off the old piano
    After giving it a clean you can almost see how beautiful it once was

    It’s a pity the keys are now yellow
    And that the sound is distorted
    Yet as soon as you touch it
    It seems to stir in anticipation
    Itching to be played once more

    At my touch it breathes a sigh of contentment
    How long it’s been neglected
    And finally
    Coming back to life

    When I go downstairs again
    The house doesn’t feel dead
    Its full of life...
    Whispering in my ears

    The remnants of pure beauty echoing off the walls...
    Last edited by a moderator: Feb 1, 2007
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