Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
This out of tune piano, knows just how I feel. Each key I play, cries in disharmony. No difference in the keys, than in my life today. No difference in my mind, than what I play. Broken rhythms and fragmented thoughts, are all I have left in this splintered heart. Why can't I find myself? Why can't I find a way? Why can't I live my life without feeling my life has frayed? The ends are frayed.
0
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
Frayed
This out of tune piano, knows just how I feel. Each key I play, cries in disharmony. No difference in the keys, than in my life today. No difference in my mind, than what I play. Broken rhythms and fragmented thoughts, are all I have left in this splintered heart. Why can't I find myself? Why can't I find a way? Why can't I live my life without feeling my life has frayed? The ends are frayed.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
barry-pietrantonio
Written by
30/M/American
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem