1st movement:
Delicate fingers, determined
Someone has been sad
So don't play,
don't play it today
It's her favorite
She might hear it tomorrow
When she's feeling better
"So don't play",
She asks him miserably
He plays till the end
Bitterly, five minutes and
Fourteen seconds
Of comfort, her agony
Disappearing with every note
Tears still held within
His delicate fingers lifted
From the piano
He held her,
letting them fall.

It's so hard to keep one busy
Even though there's lot to do
I get it done
                     One by one
But there's still time left
Until nighttime comes
And I ignore the fact that I'm still incomplete