Her name is not what matters.
Our first encounter was on my 12th birthday.
Her magnificent tune chimed throughout the house as she uttered her first words--
Sweet chirps blended with trickling waterfalls
Our souls collided through every song that was sung
Whenever together, she always knew how to bring me to an alternate universe-
One only dreams of going to.
A female Chopin began to cultivate inside my being.
Many hours spent together progressively developed our relationship-
Making us inseparable even when not together.
My subconscious always drifted towards her until something eventually brought me back to reality.
I could pour my emotions out to her and she would abstain any countenance of judgment,
Letting me rant and rave until my energy sources deceased.
She taught me many things one might scrutinize to be cliché, but truism is disregarded when these are lessons of necessity
Creativity and
They inscribed themselves into my every thought and action-
Ultimately defining my relentless pursuit in achieving perfectionism.
Some might say perfect can never be reached, but, she helped me to understand that there is such thing as “near” perfect.
It exists only in range to those who expend the time and effort yearning to attain it-
Me being one of them.
She essentially opened up the doors of maturity and enlightened my way into adulthood.
We had and still have a relationship that cannot compare to the most precious gem on earth.
Many who extensively search the deepest valleys searching for our commodity envy us.
Like the first breath of a spring morn’
The wind gently kisses pink dahlias and they dance daintily--
These forces of naturalism discretely define our indissoluble kinship. 
My Piano and I.
Guide that inspired this poem: 


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