Composing

I type the keys, each letter rings
As piano notes all in ebony,
And I sing

I sing along.

I’ve walked the stanzas, stalked
Definitions until I balked
And revised

And refused.

This weeping language, seeping
Into all, still keeping me
Enthralled

And grounded.

My dead playmates, but I read
All the things they said
While they lived,

And I agreed.
I agreed.

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