The piano in my head: A poem 

I am a pianist, with the keys all jumping in my head 

There’s wee happiness and little rage, all in blues and reds 

And there’s melancholic rendition, to which my soul weds 

I am still equanimous for all the many lies you said 

The piano keeps playing with a backdrop of hope and faith 

For, to be faithless is to be knocked off paradise’s gate 

There are battles on my boundaries; it is not a pleasant ride 

But the cradle of my conviction warms my home inside 

You can come like the night, when the stars are in sight 

I can tell you that their shimmer is all yours and mine 

You can count all my wounds hanging like loose threads on my tunic 

But my piano still plays the harmony of a universe with a billion wicks 

And the hurt and pain and the faith and hope are like beauty spots 

Even the blemishes remind me of you in infinite sequential dots 

I smile despite the knowledge that war splits the world in its beds 

And I’m keen to die with happiness, even if there’s war among the dead