They were going to throw me away,
Out with the rubbish bin.
I, who you used to play,
When you were small children.
.
Did it not mean much to you?
The scales we learned together?
Maybe if I were shiny, new,
I’d be kept out of the weather.
.
But moving on is hard;
You had to lighten the load.
So I’ll wait in the yard,
And maybe down the road…
.
Though my keys have grown brittle,
My legs liable to break,
If you remember a little,
Music we yet can make.
.
So join me as I linger
Beside this busy road.
Play, you friend and singer;
Lighten your daily load.
Aww! Makes me sad! L
Grma
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