Marching
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Step on the field
Adrenaline rushes
The announcer begins
The crowd quickly hushes
The music begins
Perhaps a simple note
Left foot first
Listen back to percussion
Stay in line
Here I stand.
Only to be moved by a sturdy hand.
A force, a revolution.
Making us change, evolution.
Here I stand with others.
Against the words and hatred of our brothers.
We are told that what we do is not a sport
We are told that we are not athletes
Yet we are the ones that spend hundreds of hours working
Yet we are the ones that are sweating, sun burt and tired
There is nothing we can do now. For we are in front of the silent crowd. The wind whistled and howled, as we stood still and proud. Until our name was called we stood nice and tall. Everyone would cheer, though it was hard to hear.
Morning, afternoon, night
I walk in
The white tiled floors,
covered in spit,
and dust,
and never cleaned quite right.
The walls
literally filled with pictures
of band kids past.
