for most purposes it is dead

an old piano 
child size 
lays in the garbage heap
its body broken 
its innards hanging out
on the frame 
like the ribs of a skeleton broken into pieces
its ivory keys are separated and cover the ground
its poor, in bad condition and cheap
 to many not worth repairing 
for most purposes it is dead 
only to be remembered by few who knew and loved
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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