Your porcelain keys

and golden strings

come natural as

the blue jay sings

You’re going places

I can tell

You’ll leave me here

It’s just as well

But if you end up

in a place

where someone tears

your dress of lace

Or if you find

your keys are cracked,

your strings have broke

their honored pact

I’ll still be here

My notes aren’t pure

my voice not clear

my chords not sure

but i’ll be waiting

all the same

when you become

fed up with fame.


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