Broken Keys

There are both black and white notes,

And there is always another chord,

But I don't want to lose what we wrote.

I'm pushing the pedal down,

Praying to hold our sound.


I know it will fade away.

I thought love called to me

I still hear our melody.

I'm living in flats,

and broken keys.


This poem is about: 
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741