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