Fallen Leaves

Music Sheets,

A vessel to carry my words further than the wind can breeze.

Four hundred and twelve degrees...

Eighty-eight Black and White Ivories.

My emotions are the colors of the keys.

One thousand, eight hundred degrees...

And from my fingertips the colors drip with ease

From the monochromatic strips they tease.

Then, once again, I can finally breathe.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world

Comments

KCaseyTPT

Gotta love this formatting ^^^

 

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