Tonight I could use an old piano to tell my stories.
If I can play, I'd hit the chords and notes and allow my fingers to express how I really feel.
The black keys will tell of my low moments and the white will tell of the happy ones (at least the happy ones are greater).
Yet here I am, expressing
Typing myself away with a keyboard not the electronic type of Piano but that of an iPad.
This lil frame that I carried with me became my companion and witness.
If it could talk, it will tell you stories of how I wake up,
how I respond
how I rush
how I procrastinate
How I smile
How I look up
How I pray
How I whisper
How I plead
How I exist
If it will
It can
And maybe if I also will
I can