...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LB3RK0Xlsh8&ab_channel=KieranHuisman

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I

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He touched the keys - petting

Their ivory edges, seeking 

Ease and familiarity -  

Only to be 

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Stifled, upon then realizing 

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That where once there had been 

A cool, and mutual intimacy -  

An affinity, and exchange,

Amity, and reciprocity -  

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Now, he was met 

With coldness, 

Occlusion, lifelessness,

And all those variate degrees 

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Of inanimacy

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That preclude such movements, made

From music 

And that had, previously, so naturally erupted

With such a calm, and complementary dexterity.

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II

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He could make this piano dance, once -  

As if the keys and he 

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Were one.

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And though he felt he had so much to say, 

When he finally set about to writing

His long awaited melody, now, he found 

That in his search for notes - 

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The phrases, and choruses 

As he so previously had done -

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That with the inertia that proceeded

The expiration of his instrument 

And the so untimely a distance 

That its death had thus become,

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Even if he were to compose his song,

He knew,

That the music would've long been ended

Before it'd ever begun.

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(a diddy about being out of practice.)

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