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by Violet
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Music · #2230274
Even The Nutcracker failed its first time around
A pas de deux through the garden with Papa
As golden sun reflects off the freshly fallen snow.

A minor waltz to the sofa that seats my Mama
As pains and heartache ail her delicate soul.

A newly metered scherzo of a room with my sisters
As we play Cossacks-and-Robbers 'til our giggles spill out too loudly.

An orchestral marche in my fevered head
As the typhoid sinks into my organs and I smile bravely for Papa.

A deafening crescendo through my existence
As gunfire rips away my home and sends me away.

A simple piano melody lifelessly drifting through empty halls
As I arrange chipped Matryoshkas on a shelf.

Even The Nutcracker failed its first time around
So as I migrate to a land just as cold in climate
But much warmer in spirit
I hear a bright overture begin
As it tells me that my first act was just a test for something greater.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2230274-Tchaikovsky