The Grand Piano
In the centre of four white corners
He stood proudly dressed in black upright
Keys in minors and sharps
Shining in mahogany in the light
He spoke with golden tones
With definition and authority
He was sort after
By the minority and majority
So many desired
To play his keys
Producing melodies with chords
But very few could afford
His price
It was worth it
It was nice
He was the grand piano
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Added by Poetry Lover
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