Piano hands

Rendered me unattuned

to sweeter notes;

Faithful to their minors.

Poison travels down the tips

Staining like ink to bury keys,

Melodies they would not care to hear

Are stifled and subdued.

Prodding, weathered fingers – manipulate the tune,

Carefully, rhythmically – building up each time

Pound the strings, forcefully, mercilessly

And leave me fragile, used,

Looking for piano hands to tune me right –

Searching for a worthy song to sing.