Refusal

The rain lilts with the wind. You pound the piano keys with ferocity, as if challenging the storm to steal your notes. You look up, penitrating the thick glass of the window with your proud eyes. I see you watching everything fall. You wish it would fall straight, with honor, instead of thrashing to the tune of the weather. Your music has passion, but you wear a terrible mask. It’s the mask of someone fighting against their own face. How can you play something that precise with so much power? I beg you; don’t lilt with the rain. Pound on! Steady and solid. The storm, strong as it is, will never be your own. 

Yellow Sweater

WA

YWP Alumni Advisor

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