Long, elegant fingers stride quickly,
Along the black and white keys.
You look longingly upon them,
They resemble your mother's hands.
Why did you have to take after your father?
Mommy never liked Daddy,
It was all a farce.
You were just caught in the middle.
All you were looking for was innocent, strong loving.
But what good is trying to play the great instrument,
If all you have are nubbins?
And now here you sit,
In front of her.
It is your chance to shine,
But all you can think of is your mother.