| » Poem: Stageaphobia/To My Last |
Stageaphobia/To My Last
written by dyingintotomorrow05:44 PM 3/17/05To feel the soft wood
Under my pale hands
Hear the sweet loud rumble
Coming from the bands
My fingertips on the strings
The sensation in my mind
Moving my hands along the frets
All beautifully alligned
See the crowd filled with delight
The moshing on the floor
And after the last song is played
The crowd still screams for more
I saunter to the mic
With breath fr one last song
And in that moment of silence
Is when if all went wrong
How culd I have gone and lost it
I've done it all before
But when the crowds looking up at you
It seems they ask for so much more
I walked off the stage that night
With my head held high
Trying to hold back
Keep the tears out of my eyes
In shame that night I told my friend
That this song was the last
And all the conserts and paying bass
Were to be stored away in my past
She told me I wouldn't be forgotten
And a tear came to her eye
So his poem is to my last consert
Farewell and Goodbye |
All (c)Copyrights reserved by the Original Author.
Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
This was for some stupid narrative poem for school. I really don't like it, it sucks. I've written better. (Oh, and I really didn't quit playing at conserts, I still rock out the skatepark!)
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| » Comments / Feedback | by Dianesjewels (3-17-2005 - 05:53 PM)
| It's a good narrative; you moved well from the beginning to the end. You have some spelling errors, but overall, I liked this. Good job. |
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