If I were chained to my piano,
Never to leave its side,
Would I think in terms of music?
Would I laugh in harmony with its keys?
Would I taste the sweetness of each song
With every breath I take?
Would I dream about half notes
Or dance across the staff?
Would each stroke of the ivory
Be smooth like the river?
Would I become the river?
Would each prod of the ebony
Be powerful like the whistling wind?
Would I embrace the wind?
Would I feel so much
As to forget about the manacles
Holding me tethered?
Would I still feel their cold touch
Sapping the strength from my veins?
Does it matter if the cage is gilded in gold
If it is still a cage?