"he sits"
he sits, slumped over in his chair
imagined beats float through the air
a tired Steinway sits saddened and alone
its lover beaten and kidnapped by life's endless drone.
he sits, slumped over in his chair
reminiscing to when music once filled his lair
wishing that he could be free once again
to create beautiful melodies with simply a pen.
he sits, slumped over in his chair
runs a once-dexterous hand through fading hair
his hands dancing over phantom keys
dreams left out dancing in the breeze.
he sits
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