Not a piano
My piano is perfect
But the pedal sticks
And the bench creaks
And the keys are yellow
And the hammers worn
And the legs are wobbly
And the wood is faded
And the strings are rusty
And the music doesn't sound the same
Once upon a time
It was brand new
But I can't afford another one
So I keep playing
And saying
My piano is perfect
My piano is perfect
My piano is perfect
The poem is original work. The image is from publicdomainarchive.com (link here).
Hope you enjoy! Happy to discuss in the comments.
maybe your poem will earn enough to hire a piano tuner.
Not likely. I'd settle for a tuning fork, though.
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