I Am... "A Girl of Band"

Structured sounds coming back with speed,

In the streets of NYC is the last I need,

For how I bleed, on a stick of wood,

To prove the passions good.



Reading pieces from years ago,

Imagining how they played it so,

Performing is what I do best,

Coming to concerts very well dressed.



There’s yelling and screaming,

It gets harder breathing,

In the end I’ll be stronger,

Holding my bell up longer.



My numb hands and hours a day,

It won’t shake the nerves away,

Teaching me responsibility and profession,

I’ll play, leaving with impression. 



Many cannot breathe the way I do,

When I walk through the hall, singing “ding dah-dah do”, 

I inhale much admiration,

Exhaling vigorous articulation.



Fluttering my fingers through the run,

In the middle of class as I hum,

The amount of joy in one tune,

“Mark time four and backwards two!”.



Wondering if I’ll get that chance,

To play as loved ones dance, 

To entertain and give,

Doing what I live (for).

It is time to appreciate who I am,

Memories based on music programs,

From what I understand,

I am the girl of band.