My Personal Thoughts and Ramblings

Sometimes, Quiet is Violent

She rushed past the piano without even sparing a glance.
Her fingers used to strike each key, as if a dance.
Music once filled this home with glee,
But now silence is her cup of tea.
She doesn't realize this quiet is the cause of her sorrow.
With this, the piano clings to the hope that she'd play tomorrow.
Alas, the prayer was never answered, as the girl refused to try.
Now all the piano does is cry.
As the music begins to die.