An LHS Marching Band Member

Locations

07202
United States
40° 39' 6.3072" N, 74° 12' 53.9928" W
07202
United States
40° 39' 6.3072" N, 74° 12' 53.9928" W

Ready for those long hours?
Can you remember the first 20 sets? 20 measures?
Will you stand at attention until parade rest?
For each game and competition will you do your best?
Can you march up a hill in time?

Ready to take the field?
When the cadence starts your heart will climb
Standing at attention at set one
Waiting for the drum major to be done
On top of the podium she yells “1, 2”
The crowd grows silent
Silently you count “1, 2, 3, 4”
You hit that first note with precision
The first flag twirl successful
You start to march

Set 2, 3, 4, 5, 6…
All is going well
You let your heart take over
Before you know it the show is over
Standing at the final set
The stands erupt in applause
You walk off the field out of breath

Ready to see the scores, face death?
The announcer reads
“Linden High School”
The stands yell and scream
“With a score of seven five point six five”
After all that training, tuning, yelling and sweating are you satisfied?
You will go back on that field and make it better
Show you are the LHS Marching Band

It’s Friday night before a competition
Football night
Are you ready for the cold?
The blistering wind and rain?
A color guard your music stand
Can you hold your flute? Trumpet? Flag?
With freezing fingers
Will you still play “Our Director” “The Horse”?
To cheer on our Football team?

It begins to snow
What now?
You don the poncho and play the halftime show
Show you are the Linden High School Marching band
You are a Marching Band member
Nothing will stop you now

The season is over
Your final score a 93.71
What will you do now? A sport? The play?
You will wait for that trip in May
To once again play those songs. 48

Comments

SerenaIsAwesome

The poem was very easy for me to picture what your school is like. Good Job!

sailorsenshiringo

A competition,
sets my stage,
the Band of Class,
Then begins to play,
Hoping for that 1,
and a place at State,
when we get there,
We hope for a superior rate,

The maroon and the gold,
donned upon the marching souls,
that won't hold no one back

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