Trembling fingers dancing across piano keys
Making a melody out of the ruin before them
Stringing together thoughts and lines and notes
With planned out motions to their smallest component
These same fingers desperately wish to rewrite their own design
To piece together a brand new composition
They know better than to hope for something other than ivory
YOU ARE READING
i guess this is writing???
Poetryshitty writing V2 (the less sad -hopefully- continuation of sorta poetry)
