Outside, Looking In

I've got a young friend
who plays the piano,
with moisted eyes and slipping fingers
he masters it.
And his songs are a whole depiction
of my long forgotten days of rain.

My father looks down on him
and sometimes in the evening
he shouts at me
for other longings and he wishes for revenge
from old times' memories which he cannot stand.

My friend's hands sing
while my father's die at the hospital.
One day father came in
and he asked "what the hell do you do?"
I knew he was tired and not mad
thus I remained silent.

Father claimed, "I save lies,
I give my flesh and blood to apply science,
while you're dreaming of sailing away,
you create a needle
that pierces and pollutes light."

My friend let his eyes shine
for the first time ever to say,
"I prevent lives from being in danger,
thanks to me you rest at least an hour
out of a complete month's madness."

My furor in rage mingled with theirs,
but my memory freed away.
Mother, while alive,
used to sing a phrase,
"one day at a time".
Does a Doctor heal himself
when he hears it ringing in his ears?
Does a Musician get
the full meaning out of it?