Eyes With Pride

One, two three four.

Left, right, left, right.

Do it again, do it better.

 

Sweat,

Like the rain,

Drips down my face.

 

Feet,

So sore,

I just might sit this one out.

 

But I don't.

 

Though exaustion is present,

So is the giant smile from ear to ear.

 

Though my body says to cease,

I push myself to continue.

 

Music is not quite perfect,

Played with little confidence,

It needs work.

 

Weeks go by,

It is finally time,

The first Saturday awaits.

 

Nerves at its max,

Fear of messing up,

I do not feel ready.

 

But I am.

 

7 minutes.

It is all I get.

420 seconds.

 

I play with emotion,

Use every fiber of my being,

To make a perfect 7 minutes.

 

It goes by in a blur,

Over too soon,

All there is left to do is wait.

 

First place,

Every caption,

Oh my goodness.

 

Crying, clapping,

Cheering so loud.

 

I look around,

And I think:

 

A place where nobody can harm you.

A place of friendship.

A family.

 

It seems like no big deal,

But it is.

 

A place where my life was saved,

A moment at my lowest,

But they brought me back.

 

Marching Band.

The greatest two words in the world;

Words that mean safety, family, protection

 

There isn't anything better, 

Than doing what you love,

With the people you love.

 

We laugh together,

Cry together,

Hurt together.

 

We are a family;

We stick together.

 

Reality sets in,

Our Drum Major asks an important question.

 

"How are your eyes?"

With pride!

 

"Show them who you are and what you're capable of,

HOW ARE YOUR EYES!?!?!"

 

"WITH PRIDE!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 

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