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My lovely girl
Velohomme
Behind that mask of yours
are you really that person who
writes to cut
" chop chop chop"
are you really that girl who sheds tears at night?
and sleep open-eyed

When I see you
I sense a spark of inspiration in me
to be a better person
But behind that mask of yours...

I don't know anything anymore velohomme
You were someone I 've always wanted to be
The girl full of smiles
Odd jokes
And
Laughter
but in your poems that
you
authored
You don't seem
to be that girl I've known all along
You seem to be a girl
Who sheds her tears in the dark
Let the blood pour out of her open wounds
Worry about the problems that I've never
Imagined that you had

You seem
To
Be
Confused
With your own emotions

You don't seem to know why you are happy
or why you are
sad
You sit in that corner of the classroom
Sleep with a peace that I've never known or seen it
In anyone else
Yet in your poetry
It is filled with
Dark meaning
Blood
Fear
And sheer terror

My lovely girl
Velohomme
Behind that mask of yours
are you really that person?
There it sits
Waiting
Watching

It's a Yamaha
With a Union-Jack back
The last of it's
Kind

It's been a faithful companion
It came to me
When I was six
Not brand new
But second hand

Through all the tears
All the humiliation
All the pain
All the scoldings
All the belittlings
It stuck through with me
With sweat and blood
Shed on the keys
It didn't complain
When I threw
My tantrums
Banging the keys
Even kicking it once
Or twice
It just waited
And watched me
Till I calmed down
And felt
Stupid
After
I practised
Everyday
And not once
Did it
Complain

It has a really bright
Crystal clear
Sound
With this certain
Energy
And depth

I took great pride
In taking care of it
Polishing it
Every other day
Till it shone
Like a mirror

As time went by
One grade after the other
The practises became
Less and
Less
I didn't care for it
As much as I did
Before
A year passed
Then another

Now I'm fourteen
It's twenty eight
Or more
I've had my share
Of performing
On stage
With all types of pianos
But there was this
One thing
That was different
With my piano
Something it
Lacked

The sound is there
The energy is there
But somehow
When I compare the recordings
My dear piano
Just sounds
Tired...
The touch stickier
The keys start failing
On some days
It sounds
Muted
Always slightly off key
No matter how many times
The piano man comes
This is one patient
The doctor can't treat

Is it possible
That emotions
Can be transferred
To objects?
Has my raging
Over the keyboard
Tired it out
By having to
Express
What I play
And what I
Put
Into the pieces?

It's a piano
Of memories
Of thoughts
Of an inexpressable phenomenon
Called feelings
"Where words fail, music speaks"
I salute you
Dear piano
For allowing me
To express myself
Through the written pieces
You help
Materialize

We have grown together
Walked this long journey together
And with all the memories
Sweat
Blood
Tears
That has made me today
I won't part with
Till the very end,
Dear piano

So shall we continue?
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