A Musical Saga

They made me take music, not drama or art.
Of my parents' decree, I wanted no part.
I was fourteen years old, and starting high school,
Thought I was above my folks' well-meaning rules.
For my very first time, I was faced with a choice,
But they snatched it away, and deprived me my voice
To choose my school courses, so I called them unfair
But they stuck to their guns; said that I had a flair,
Had a talent for music, be it sax, drums, or flute
Though I whined and complained 'bout this "pointless" pursuit.

But, since I was young, my parents prevailed
My "unbreakable" logic had nonetheless failed.
So, on my new clarinet, I'd puff, squawk, and squeak
Trying to play through the workbook, piece by piece, week by week
My cheeks would inflate like a hot-air balloon,
But my teacher urged me not to give up too soon.
So, slowly but surely, the crude noises gave way
To a sweet, lucid tone. Then came the big day
When our teacher announced that we all would soon play
At the big Christmas Concert, for our parents and peers
And the more advanced students, whose reaction I feared.

They would surely all laugh, I stammered in fright,
But we all practiced hard, and then came the big night
When we dressed in our uniforms and took to the stage,
Armed with the words of our band-teacher sage:
"I don't care 'bout mistakes, just play and have fun,
And take lots of risks, for you only have one
Chance at a first concert, so give it your all.
Once you've done it, I'm sure you'll agree it's a ball
To get up on that stage and share your gifts with others,
With your friends, and your teachers, and fathers and mothers."

So, still trembling all over, we all took our places
With matched looks of fear on our insecure faces.
But then, at the signal, we all started to play,
And at once, our fears suddenly melted away,
For those long weeks of practice had paid off in the end,
As we saw the delight in our parents and friends,
As we sounded the chords of their favourite songs,
I knew that my earlier fears had been wrong.
My heart filled with a love that was foreign to me,
I felt joyous, elated, invincible, and free!
I knew from that moment, I'd discovered my passion
And I no longer cared about "coolness" or "fashion."
So what if some people deemed me a "band geek?"
For all great musicians were fresh and unique.
My passion for music could never be severed,
So, from then on, I knew I'd continue forever.

And now, ten years later, I'm still going strong
For following my dream cannot lead me wrong.
I still dream of becoming a concert musician,
And someday, this goal will come into fruition.
And although I have changed in so many ways,
I still practice my clarinet every day.
As the room fills with music, my heart fills with glee,
And I realize the favour my folks did for me.
By making what seemed like a heartless decision,
They'd predicted my future with stunning precision!
They gave me a gift, by discov'ring my talents,
So I could use music as my aural palette
To enrapture folks' souls with the rich hues of Bach,
of Mozart, and Saint-Saens, and Francis Poulenc.

And so, gentle readers, the moral of this tale
Is to never stop trying, even if you first fail.
Keep getting back onto that proverbial horse,
You'll never succeed by not trying, of course!
For, had I given up, I'd have missed my true calling.
Such a tragedy would have been much worse than falling!
So, pick yourselves up, and get back in the saddle
Or else you'll have lost the emotional battle
That ensnares many victims in their own inhibtions,
So their talents and dreams can't come into fruition.

And, to my smart parents, if you're reading this poem,
I want you to know that you really hit home.
When you made me take music, you weren't being cruel,
You helped me to find my niche in high school.
You gave me a gift I can never repay
And for that, I am grateful to you ev'ry day.
So, when I have children, I'll follow your lead,
Even if they whine, and incessantly plead
That I'm being unfair, that I'm stealing their rights,
I'll tell them this story of how I saw the light.