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Op. 27
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Author:
TheTinGirl
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| Created: March 11, 2009 at 09:39 pm |
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Entry Type:
Poem, G (All)
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| Category: General/Other | Personal | General/Other |
| Entry Stats: 4.59 Stars by 5 users with 6 comments 247 views |
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Op. 27
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The soft piano plays as I shut the sun out
Moonlight Sonata Op. 27...
Such a decadence to the senses.
Silence engulfs the daily chaos.
My down barrier wrapped tight.
Left to rest my aching head,
On a softness I don't have to worry about.
The piano plays with it's magical fingers,
On a 9.99 special.
Chaotic, yet subdued.
Much like myself.
A sigh escapes, my back arches,
A simple C note, in a high octave
Grants me a guilty pleasure.
We ride into the softness, sadly.
The monotony of lives-
We cry over the five o'clock traffic.
We cry over freezing families.
We cry in our own confusion,
And inability to understand.
We pray for something more.
Something beautiful and free.
A life where there is no worry,
No pain, or suffering.
We cry for a dream.
Left to drown
Serenaded by Moonlight Sonata.
Op. 27.
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