Philosophical

What a shame! What a shame? 
He plays furiously on his instrument, 
looking into the screen, passion-lame, 
typing without any thought or sentiment. 
It's an old, makeshift desk, 
but brand-new keys to sing his voice, 
Fulfilling a high-tuned burlesque, 
his heart is waiting to rejoice. 
A keyboard with all black keys, 
and letters, numbers and a mouse. 
This ersatz piano rocks the seas 
of the human soul; an electronic house. 
It devours the constance of time; 
and reverses it through sleep, 
It is 4:03 and soon you can't climb 
 the clef notes of deepening reap.

The Ersatz Pianist