Today, Thursday, May 14 was my final concert in my high school career this poem reflects the emotions that I am going through
With every red light and every turn, I was waiting for someone to wave me back so I could play a song once again
As the night came to a close and as the stage cleared, the speakers started playing soft music
the hardest part isn’t the actual concert.
It’s realizing that there’s no encore this time
This is the day the music died
It’s realizing
that you outgrew the room that you spent years inside
the place that gave you a home, the place that made you who you are
“the day the music died”
Echoing through the cafeteria over the heads of adults, kids and students alike
it makes you realize that this night was like no other
As I drove away from the small building
Alone.
Realizing Im driving away from a place I considered home.
I’m driving away from my childhood.
With both hands on the steering wheel,
all the windows down and wind in my hair,
driving in silence,
tears blurring the road
Nobody stopped me
Nobody’s calling me home
This is the final concert
This is the day
The day the music died
Poetry by Theo_Door91
Read 3 times
Written on 2026-05-15 at 06:03
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
The day the music died
As I looked in the rearview mirror at the building, getting smaller as I droveWith every red light and every turn, I was waiting for someone to wave me back so I could play a song once again
As the night came to a close and as the stage cleared, the speakers started playing soft music
the hardest part isn’t the actual concert.
It’s realizing that there’s no encore this time
This is the day the music died
It’s realizing
that you outgrew the room that you spent years inside
the place that gave you a home, the place that made you who you are
“the day the music died”
Echoing through the cafeteria over the heads of adults, kids and students alike
it makes you realize that this night was like no other
As I drove away from the small building
Alone.
Realizing Im driving away from a place I considered home.
I’m driving away from my childhood.
With both hands on the steering wheel,
all the windows down and wind in my hair,
driving in silence,
tears blurring the road
Nobody stopped me
Nobody’s calling me home
This is the final concert
This is the day
The day the music died
Poetry by Theo_Door91
Read 3 times
Written on 2026-05-15 at 06:03
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Sameen |
