Some time ago, I wrote a poem about a piano, as I have an extreme devotion to pianos in every way (about the way it sounds, its physical beauty, etc.). Please, tell me what you think about it. Also, consider this is maybe the first poem I've written in english, and I do not know much about measuring verses and paragraphs, rhyme, and other stuff related to poetry writing...

A piano made of wood

And some other things too

No owner it has

No playing it does.*

Its pedals reach the floor

There's no need for more

The bench is put in front

For someone to go and sit on

The piano was out of tune

No one fixed it, later nor soon

No one has come and played

Silently has this instrument stayed

The sound it had once

Much more beautiful was

The keys were not something to be seeing

It was just matter of using some feeling

If this piano had a life

It would be in no strife

It would want its keys touched

It would like those fingers really much

If this piano gets destroyed

No one will be annoyed

No one will remember, at last,

How beautiful this piano was

* Is this sentence right?