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Black Piano



By: Ansha Kottapalli


The black piano sits in the living room.

Years ago, I looked at it with a sense of doom.

Having to spend hours sitting on its bench, stroking its keys mindlessly,

The piano would play soundlessly.


A few years later I can hear the same sound.

Now, it feels like I am riding a merry-go-round.

The music makes me feel safe,

Now I do not feel like I am enslaved.

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