88
What glared back at me on that cold January afternoon was 88 motionless keys
It killed me to see them sitting there quietly
How enticing they looked but that didn't matter
The 88 keys weren't made to be looked at, but listened to
As much as my sister hated the keys, I couldn't resist
My heart craved to hear what the keys had to say
All 88 of them pulled me in and forced my hands to play with them
With no song in mind, the keys took control
Soon my eyes gave in as the music blanketed my sight with darkness
The melody didn't matter
Simply sound
For that one moment my senses all shut off
But the keys' awakening sound opened my ears
I could hear the incongruous harmonies
The mellifluous discordances
The 88 taught me more than any textbook or teacher could
And for the first time, I realized different is beautiful
Amongst all the judgement and stereotypes, there's diversity
Beautiful diversity
To the weird ones
The bizarre
The crazies
The misfits
We're lucky
Without us the world would be boring
And though I learned this late in life
I'm happy I finally did
Thanks to the 88
Comments
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I love how you celebrate differences in this poem, and make note of how different doesn't mean wrong, but instead, it is beautiful. My favorite line is definitely the juxtaposition in "I could hear the incongruous harmonies" because you imply that just because something doesn't make sense doesn't mean that it can't work. Have you ever thought of putting this poem to music- maybe a song you wrote? I think that would be really cool. Check out how to make a multimedia poem in the Resources section!