Band Poem by Elizabeth Tyrrell

Harsh sounds
Sharps clashing with flats
Making me clench my mouth shut.
My jaw latches closed at the noise,
Making my head spin and
My ears burn.
Then I see what's making my stomach flip and twist.
You're staring at me and
Now the shivers race down my spine.
My face flashes hot.
I look away but
I still feel your eyes
Watching me.
I'm going to be sick and
It's all because of you.
I try to play,
But it sounds to harsh for how I'm feeling.
My sound should be
Sweet and soft.
Look at what you're doing to me.
I want to scream at you,
But I don't want my
First words towards you to be
Words of hate.
Why won't you
Look away
And stop this madness?
Why must you torture my sound in this
Horrid process?
I know what you are trying to do,
But I will not fall into your trap.
Though I want to yes
I really want to fall
But I will not.
I turn and look at you.
You're sill looking at me.
I can't look away
Your stare is to overpowering.
You walk over to me
And I begin to play
The sound flowing sweetly through the air.
You stop in front of me as I continue.
'Your tone is beautiful, '
You say so softly I can hardly hear.
I stop
Say thank you
And try not to stumble over my words.
You slowly walk away
And I start breathing again.
Though I can no longer see you I know
You're watching me
Like a hawk just waiting for me
To make a mistake.