This poem is about how pain changed the note of a piano player. This poem is about how pain changed the note of a piano player.

For being good you need three keys For being good you need three keys

I don’t love Your unclad body That will throw a seven, Rather I love your unclad soul That Has... I don’t love Your unclad body That will throw a seven, Rather I love your un...

7 little grumpy men, Sat in a row... 7 little grumpy men, Sat in a row...

Seldom comes a wind That puts me to ease Like those early days That early spring breeze. Seldom comes a wind That puts me to ease Like those early days That early spr...

Her fingers long and tapered Skimmed over the keys Her fingers long and tapered Skimmed over the keys