D# (Dust Sharp)
If you found a piano alone in the dust of dark clouds
whose keys still could strike a chord despite their sorry state,
whose notes, though off, could craft a singsong tune,
would you take a mo0ment to press your fingers on it
and give it a chance to weep a song once more?
Or would you pass it by and call it broken
without giving it a chance to hammer its lonely strings
and play for you a song such that only time-tempered strings
could play?
This poem is about:
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: