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He was a pianist,
A prodigy one

His name was soaring up,
When he was barely nine

His parents were proud and beyond,
He, himself was contented yet still striving farther more

Been all around the world,
More often then his own house

Nonetheless, he has always come back to it,
To his old piano at home

The old piano that holds memories,
Of his beloved grandfather

All the lessons he gave him,
And the time they spent together

The old piano that made him who he is,
And shaped his character

To the old piano,
He will always come back