Another poem! Can be considered "depressing" to some people. I came up with this idea in a car after I was yelled at by my piano teacher for not practicing. Oh whale. Anyways, read it if you want to and comment what you think about it ^v^

•~~~•~~~•~~~•~~~•

Smile, play, bow.
Applause, encouragement, flowers.
Practice, practice, practice.
Pain, pain, pain.

Fingers are red.
I am tired.
When will I stop?
I want to stop.

The audience.
Audience wants more.
Can't they see
The bags under my eyes?

Can't they see
My red hands and fingers?
I have to go on.
I will not break.

The audience.
The audience stops.
No sound.
No cheering.

What?
Why?
Why is my face wet?
Why are there tears on the ivory keys?

No.
I can't cry.
I'll damage the piano.
That'd be an inconvenience.

I get up
Ready to bow.
But
I run offstage.

No flowers.
No applause.
Just silence.
The straight-faced pianist is no more.

•~~~•~~~•~|~•~~~•~~~•

   Well I hope you enjoyed reading it. Once again, I just feel like this sometimes. I suppose most, or every musician feels like this sometimes...

   Anyways, bai!

                     ~MysticalButterflies