The Piano (Class Assignment)

A poem I wrote for English class. It's kinda obvious that I got a 3 on conventions, isn't it? ^^

Standing tall in the white washed room

The scent of the black painted ebony stretches for play

Silent without a medium

Silent, longing to be played

Until a master

It's medium

Its maestro

Like a loving, caring father

Like a sweet, small mother

Sits down to play

His fingers are one with the ivory keys

White or black, they're all the same.

Precious to him,

All needed for his symphony

An octave jump here, a half step there

A major key, a minor key

A sharp or a flat

Legato or staccato

A tie or an even note

A swing or a waltz

All of the sounds bleed into one.

The piano sings its unheard song

Its voice, clear like a glistening mirror

Its lyrics, the notes that dance across the page

Its voice like molasses

Running smoothly

Light on its feet

Yet dark with mystery.

The master's feet caress the pedals

Weaving the notes

Weaving his feelings of love, hatred, and happiness

Into one beautiful tapestry.

Nothing tastes so sweet

Than the sound of a song

Sung pure and sweet

Like a child

Sung loud with a head banging beat

Like a rock star

Sung quietly and lithely

Like a renegade lion.

Its hammers, stern like a father

Yet kind as a mother

Beat its vocal chords

That disguise as strings

The master knows

That the piano is nothing

Without the master

Just like us.

We are nothing

Without our master