Symphony, you're a tickled
or you flute if I conduct you to,
but I don't know the score.
Squeeze out those sweet strains before I forget
to cue a breath at each phrase on cue,
and demean your demeanor with demands.
I long to listen, but of music I've no more.
You: play on
as I drop my baton,
applause the only music in my hands.
poem written by JASON PAUL FOX.
You MUST credit my authorship when reproducing this poem in any way!
Violators are prosecuted, no joke!
I'm living off the generosity of plagiarists now!
(It's OK to give my poem to friends or people at school, if you credit me and don't make money off it)
2007 Jason Paul Fox