The Lonely Piano

In a world bathed with dust
Covered in pristine white
A piano sits ... alone
Mahogany colored and grand as can be
Its wood had been gracefully worn away
And in its corner where the sunlight dances
Over its ivory keys
It remembers the tunes it used to play

Some were happy, joyful, and free
As the young child who practiced her scales
Others were passionate, heady, and full
Like the young lady who charmed the world with her fire
The last played though were sad, so sad
By an old woman whose hands had forgotten how to play

And so this piano sits
Amid rows of books and things covered in sheets
As its darkening wood worn away by Time
Plays its song for the last time
For the girl, whose fingers danced across the keys
For the lady, who gave the world her music
And for the old woman, who came back once more to play

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