Fingers so geriatric
Now isn’t the time to panic
Stretched out with life
My hands are just a blur
Chopin acknowledges me
Heart synched with this melody
My soul dances
My mind skips and prances
Making sweet music
My fingers’ versatility
They express my ingenuity
Expressing my root, my core
Gateway to my world
This symphony of my heart
The harmonizing cease
And Unappreciative Silence deafens me
Paralyzed in this hell
I suffer mock cardiac arrest
Til the tide of applause resuscitates me
And washes me away to ecstasy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem