What Makes Me Tick


Tick, tick, tick, tick.
Foot taps; heartbeats sync
My back hurts and my blisters sting.
I glide across the field; not a step but a march.
In line with my family.
Tick, tick, tick, tick.
Arms raised; breath drawn
My vowels form and my eyes watch.
I perform with emotion; not just a song but a story.
On the risers with my friends.
sss-ts p-sss-ts p-sss-ts p-sss-ts
Beat swung; cymbal rings
My posture is relaxed and my sticks are loose
I make the beat funky; not the bad kind but the good
I’m doing what I love
Tick, tick, tick, tick
Same mind, same sound
My passion is the music and my reason of being.
We all blend in; not together but as one.
The metronome makes me tick


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