Marching

Bee-eep Beep Beep HUT! The familiar sounds. The whistle. The snap to attention. I feel the harness on my shoulders, Gravity pulling the drum down. But I stand tall, Me and my drum, As each row moves forward. Left, right, left, right. With each step the drum shifts, But it can't bother me. Staring straight, Chin elevated, With a serious look on my face. Yet inside I am shouting. With pain. With excitement. So excited. The camera's on me. Knowing I am the heartbeat, Me and my bass drum. The pulse That carries the band. We start to play. With each song My arms get tired, But I cannot stop. Left, Right, Left, Right. So focused, yet in a daze. Song after song. Then stop cadence. One Sticks up Two Step out. Yet again It's over. But I know I will do it again Tomorrow.