So here I sit
Heart beating
Fingers as cold as ice
And shaking so
I hate this
It's not fair
I wish I was anywhere
Just not here
It's my turn soon
To enter the world of terror
Goodbye
I won't be here with you any longer
You see
It is now my turn
To play my song
In the Piano Festival
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2 comments:
Ah piano... I could have been a great pianist. I had pianist fingers! Great poem. Keep it up.
Haha, I take piano still, although I'm trying to get out of it...
People say I really have "the gift" for playing piano, pshh.
Thanks
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