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The streets, plain The scenery, new but unchanged The city, now black and white The candle that failed to ignite The crisp morning air The usual affairs The same unheated ground Then there was a faint sound The leaves started to sway There was a presence of warm sun rays The grass and flowers danced The prospect, enhanced All because my ears have found A vaguely familiar and new sound An enamoring explosion of melody An enthralling harmony A beguiling musicality An enslaving euphony A perfect array of notes Flowing with a hypnotic coat A piercing tune Resembling a rune It's rhythm, throbbing It's tempo, moving The sound was too perfect and strong That it seemed like a torturous song Nonetheless, it was a beautiful beat Beautiful enough to move my feet What I heard was an alluring sound That eventually made me slide through the ground I closed my eyes and followed what I heard Walking, searching, to clarify the blurred The faint sound, grew louder Eventually I was overpowered While seeking for the source of the hymn I turned into a willing victim My feet have stopped moving When I saw a man, the man who was playing My eyes settled upon his silhouette Which was in contrast to the sunset There he was, sitting on a wooden stool Unknowingly making all the listeners drool His fingers fluttering atop black and white keys Creating color through a musical breeze I saw him, that man Still playing, talking through his hands I followed a sound and saw a pianist And then my heart was kissed Not because of the music that made my ears fuss Not because he splashed paint all over the dull canvas But because of how he looked at the instrument It's as if, for the piano, his eyes were meant How he gazed upon it with those eyes As if the piano was his only prize How he goggled the piano with those eyes As if for that instrument he was willing to agonize As if he can only see the piano As if there was only him and the piano It was that look that little girls dream of It was that look that symbolized love That look that little girls wished were for them That look that would give little girls contemn That look that was only for the piano That look that was pure as snow That look was colorful and honestly warm That look that entrapped a celestial swarm That look which was gentle and intense That look which was passionate and immense That look which was alive, painful and afraid In that moment, I longed for a shooting star's aid As if a little girl, I wished for what little girls wish for I wished for him to look at me like that, nothing more But none can compare with his instrument Nor to the reason why he plays it with such intent To the new girl he plays for To the girl he currently adores I hope his sound reaches you I hope you listen and give him value I hope you look at him as he plays for you Look at him like how he looks at the piano when he thinks of you Like how the crowd looks at him as he plays like this Like how the little girls look like when they wish Like how he used to look at the piano When he misses and plays for the little girl, not too long ago
0
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
Nostalgia
The streets, plain The scenery, new but unchanged The city, now black and white The candle that failed to ignite The crisp morning air The usual affairs The same unheated ground Then there was a faint sound The leaves started to sway There was a presence of warm sun rays The grass and flowers danced The prospect, enhanced All because my ears have found A vaguely familiar and new sound An enamoring explosion of melody An enthralling harmony A beguiling musicality An enslaving euphony A perfect array of notes Flowing with a hypnotic coat A piercing tune Resembling a rune It's rhythm, throbbing It's tempo, moving The sound was too perfect and strong That it seemed like a torturous song Nonetheless, it was a beautiful beat Beautiful enough to move my feet What I heard was an alluring sound That eventually made me slide through the ground I closed my eyes and followed what I heard Walking, searching, to clarify the blurred The faint sound, grew louder Eventually I was overpowered While seeking for the source of the hymn I turned into a willing victim My feet have stopped moving When I saw a man, the man who was playing My eyes settled upon his silhouette Which was in contrast to the sunset There he was, sitting on a wooden stool Unknowingly making all the listeners drool His fingers fluttering atop black and white keys Creating color through a musical breeze I saw him, that man Still playing, talking through his hands I followed a sound and saw a pianist And then my heart was kissed Not because of the music that made my ears fuss Not because he splashed paint all over the dull canvas But because of how he looked at the instrument It's as if, for the piano, his eyes were meant How he gazed upon it with those eyes As if the piano was his only prize How he goggled the piano with those eyes As if for that instrument he was willing to agonize As if he can only see the piano As if there was only him and the piano It was that look that little girls dream of It was that look that symbolized love That look that little girls wished were for them That look that would give little girls contemn That look that was only for the piano That look that was pure as snow That look was colorful and honestly warm That look that entrapped a celestial swarm That look which was gentle and intense That look which was passionate and immense That look which was alive, painful and afraid In that moment, I longed for a shooting star's aid As if a little girl, I wished for what little girls wish for I wished for him to look at me like that, nothing more But none can compare with his instrument Nor to the reason why he plays it with such intent To the new girl he plays for To the girl he currently adores I hope his sound reaches you I hope you listen and give him value I hope you look at him as he plays for you Look at him like how he looks at the piano when he thinks of you Like how the crowd looks at him as he plays like this Like how the little girls look like when they wish Like how he used to look at the piano When he misses and plays for the little girl, not too long ago
Spare me a few minutes and allow me to use black and white words to transport you in a colorful memory
Stitch
Written by
20/F
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
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