The Musician

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by truelyawkward

by truelyawkward

The Musician

Tonight there was a concert.
I knew being there meant I would get hurt.
Because in a world of orchestras, I still played alone.
I tried the trumpet, flute, and even trombone,
But I found after a while, I was best at the violin.
Except I used the bow to play on my skin.
I loved the feeling it gave me inside,
I felt like a person—I felt so alive.
My veins played just like the strings,
I was starting to get used to the excruciating stings.
I know people stared,
Not many of them cared,
But my arms were sore.
Then, they called for an encore.
So I gave in.
I played again and again,
Until the concert came to an end.