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Piano Man
I hear the piano man whistling on his way to work
down to the quarter to the coffee shop.
When he arrives, the barista hands
him a mocha, and he begins to play.
His soul danced in the air,
just as his fingers danced on the keys.
While there’s a hint of pain in his eyes,
from lost love and no place of his own,
He smiles and enjoys his music;
it cleanses his mind, purifies his heart.
After he is renewed, he tips his hat
and whistles his song once again.
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