Symphony

An auditorium built into the school

After some kid tried to burn it down

Like a phoenix it arose

With saunas for lights

And chairs that make your back bend

It is here we made music

We were young rebels

In a high school orchestra

That we were too cool for

We popped pills and smoked to survive

And every once in a while

We’d play in harmony

The memory of being shoved in the back

No matter the hours of practicing

Till fingers ache at the thought of moving

The conductor taps her stand

And we rise, though at different times

She’ll point me out

And tell me I’m doing it right

Before telling me I’m doing it wrong

And the remorse when I settled back into the case

Was as fake as the purple rosin I carry

So that their farewell

Was a sonata

And a concerto

Too late