I am from simple interest, finally five years old.
I am from ideas of classical and more, dating back centuries.
I am from heavy keys and empty hands.
From warbling radios and powerhouse vocals.
I am from endless hours and sour chords.
I am from sudden crescendos and countless sunsets.
I am from echoing walls and shaking speakers.
From pounding temples and moments of silence.
I am from pumping hearts and falling scales.
I am from rhythmic foot tapping and black lace flats.
I am from swaying bodies and small, blissful smiles.
From crinkled sheets and shuffling papers.
I am from stifling hot spaces and pink faces.
I am from carpet floors and unstable music stands.
I am from plastic protectors and windy days.
From dreams of bravo and standing ovation.