My Piano Needs to be Tuned

    The Woods Project.

    /: Come, come again
    A girl and her mandolin

    This is a space where I have a mid life crisis, write about my creative journey, and talk about songwriting and share bits of terrible poetry.

    Come, come again

    Written in

    by

    Mypianoreallyneedstobetuned

    , 
    I am not at as learn-ed as it seems.
    Just the odd bits.
    Stuck in the furnace of my brain.

    I don’t know why it happens,
    The things I can recall.
    It is looking backwards forwards.
    Mystery in it all.

    The things I touch.
    The things I hold,
    Brush up against 
    And am told.

    Come again
    Come,come again.
    Before it too is sold.

    Come,again
    Come.
    I am getting old.

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