Somebody carved you from scratch,
he carefully connected every piece of you
and put music in you, lovingly…
You possibly were his greatest work,
you probably were the talk of the town.
Could you have been a gift for his lover
or did you belong only to him?
How many hearts did you enthrall?
Whose possession have you been?
Old Piano, you now stand in a corner
your paint faded and your body worn and torn.
But there you are, still standing on your feet,
Proud and Grand.
You intrigue me, you captivate me.
You stopped singing many years ago but your music plays on.