Creative Poetry

A Musician’s Closest Confidant

I’m alone in a small boxy room

with only a piano to keep me company.


Together we reminisce of the brighter days,

and when my tears hit her keys

and my voice is swallowed up,

she begins to sing to me instead,

I miss it, too,

I miss it, too.”


And I know that she’s being honest,

because she was there in the midst of it all.

She was there when I didn’t know.

She was there when I found out.

She was there in the miracle moments.

She was there in the in betweens.

She was there.

She’s always been there.


I don’t think there is anyone

who knows me like the piano.

Photo Credit: We Heart It

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