Wednesday, September 07, 2005
denise shited{[[.........
hmm...shld write a poem on my wanting to play the piano
my piano...
blackish black it leaned towards the wall
i think 7,8 years in all
piano classics, all throughout
led me through with its tinging sound
these white keys and black little buttons
a tone different with every touch
each cord,each major,each minor key
adds a different spirit into me
the energy put into that tone producing object
really makes me sweat
the effort one has to put in
is what i think kinda worth it
3 years sinced i touched those marvellous keys
gave me that mystical feeling
that feeling of hope in playing that thing again
really...no gold can ever replace it
lost without you;
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
