A Bookish Charm

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.