The Piano

The piano, old and crippled,
Sat neglected in a room,
Where music once played,
Decades ago.
Its keys, yellow and dusty,
Were worn from use,
But still intact and out of tune.

She sat upon the creaky bench,
Gently touching the keys,
And prepared to play a song,
That survived lifelong,
Through the prolonged wars,
And through the wrong doors.