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.

Though,

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: 
Me
Our world

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