Piano Man by Daryl Price

At His Piano

 

Grumpy old fart!
With too much free time,
Cantankerous and cussing
About every single thing
That came to his mind.

He was out everyday
That the weather allowed,
Sitting in the park
Complaining out loud
About bad parenting.

Caregivers and mothers
Who got near him
Were shrewdly warned
To keep their ill-bred
Imbeciles far away.

Late in the evening
When the teens came out,
He’d watch for a while
Then disgusted, head home
To escape their stupidity.

Arriving just in time
To catch the news
And prepare his evening meal,
Sit in his favorite chair
Then ridicule each reports.

He slowly got ready for bed,
Thinking the whole world
Is gone straight to hell
And as death wouldn’t have him
He’d be going too.

Waking up miserable,
Fatigued and not rested,
Creaking stiff limbs
Make their way again
Through another morning.

One car drives by blasting
That irritating noise
They now pass off as music,
And made him too angry
For his usual walk.

On days such as this
He felt mostly lonely,
And sat at his piano
Playing what he wrote
Or remembered by heart.

Those keys and notes
Would unlock that part,
Where joys hidden away
Behind all the misery
Calmed him in privacy.

Ria 2016

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