Her time machine 

She opened the door To a windfull of dust
But her eyes just searched

For that piece of rust

The white cover was a little dusty
But the wood beneath it still shined

The memories now were a little old

But the black and white keys still rhymed

She sat in front of it
As the tears made her blind

She began playing the piano

As her childhood flooded her mind.

She could feel her father’s hands
Guiding her through the melody

Her fingers danced

And they wrote a parody

That day the weather and the music
Were all in chime

The piano, her time machine

Took her back in time


– Divyam Gandhi 

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