The white ivory keys,
are cold to the touch,
the black keys arn't much better.
My hands are trembling,
as I start to play,
and the sound echos through out the room.
The judges cold hard stares make me shudder,
as I throw my hand an octave higher,
to finish off the song.
And when I'm finally done,
the last notes carry on,
until they fray out,
and get replaced with the sound of applause.
I smile and walk off.
Author notes
This poem is to commemorate my 4th talent show piano performance.
A contest entry
- For those of you, with less than 10 trophies -anything goes- by Guapia.
700 points, ended March 15, 39 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Prewrites!!! Come take a look! by CentrifugalCorpse.
1250 points, ended September 7, 224 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Anything goes!!!! I want an AP family and friends list!! by saz 09.
460 points, ended September 20, 77 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
good
Thank you for entering the contest! I enjoyed this poem, but be careful for typo's! "The judges cold hard stairs" should be "The judges cold hard stares". I hope the talent show went well! -
cool
I know the feeling of butterflies you get before a show, but the rush you get afterwards makes it worth it. your poem really captures this. It reminds me of past violin and ballet recitals.
Adding your comment:
