The Pianoplayer Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

He sat, the window was wide open
in front of the piano he despised,
condemned to practice ten defiant fingers
by parents, old and cruel and estranged.

He'd told his mates he would be playing,
though unbeknownst it was a player -unit,
with rolls of paper turning air into sweet music,
and when the time was right he sat,

with head and shoulders in plain vision from the street,
and played Hungarian Rhapsody by Liszt
and Orpheus, even Bach and Haydn.
A deafening applause moved him to stand, and bow,
they clearly had been shocked, 'we didn't know'!

and when the last of the three rolls had done its thing
he closed the lid as his own symbol of 'good-bye'.
He sat and basked in admiration from his peers
which slowly penetrated to his inner soul,
when an old blackbird landed on the window sill
and started laughing uncontrollably, at him.

It sounded so much like a Kookaburra though,
and it is known that they possess musical ears.