Casablanca, Morocco
My old piano in black and gray or tinted memory of my maestro my souls wriggling and dancing notes of dusty old piano keys gives a dead dress that slips Melodious symphonies every torment of black to white and they follow my hands sing my endless do so at my still squatting on the ground of nacre I smell and plays at the end of my passions because I love and die I'll play this time without crying is all I 'I have to offer you .. but I board art to adore you and cherish you as a dying ever could for my piano ......
...slowly the piano played its song with its black coat on alone in the dark lonely with out a friend his only friend was the memories that past by whenever he remembered his friends who played along
