Makeshift SymphonyHe tied piano strings to his heart,so that every time it beatit didn't sound so empty inside.But the music in his heartcouldnt permeate the hollow airas the metronome kept time for the clock.One, two. One, two.Reedy notes plummeted from his lips ashe made me pluck out Tchaikovsky and Bachwhen all I wanted to play was twinkletwinklelittlestar."I'm just a little girl."My fingers tripped and stumbledand I know that I could never playas well as he needed me to;I could never keep his notesfrom slipping off the page.White and black sideswiped my fingers,as I struck one chord too many."I've always wanted to make you proud, papa.But the past is flightless swans and sometimeswe only get a glimpse of what was there."He shouldve left the past where it belongs,because everything was far too black-and-whitein his eyes, and I was never good enoughto replace everything that was missingin his hollow heart.