Ode to the DeSales Marching Band

by Rhiannon Starlight

WARNING: you might not understand this if you do not go to my school. This is merely a tribute to the Marching Band members at St. Francis DeSales High School, as the title indicates. It is especially in loving regard to the woodwinds.

This is a bold statement of band pride, which I dedicate to both my high school and college band friends, as well as the first reviewer of this poem, Lily. J. Potter.

ODE TO THE DESALES MARCHING BAND

All you proud members of the DHS marching band,

DON'T be discouraged by any bleached-blonde,

Spiky-haired, acne-studded Justin Timberlake wannabe

Who tells you that you that you're a nerd

Just because you're in the band.

What Mr. Loser doesn't realize is that halftime just isn't halftime without your show.

Be proud of all that you are wearing,

From the stallion cape (which no one really wears anymore)

To the purple jacket

To the fluffy, dead hamster on your cap.

Be proud!

Hold your head high and be thankful for who you are

Even though the white pants are ugly enough to serve as a means of birth control.

So what if you're a woodwind and no one can hear you?

That means no one can hear you make a mistake,

Or the fact that sometimes you don't actually play.

There are a lot of you people; in fact,

Approximately one out of every ten people in this school is a band member.

So conduct yourselves with pride

And PLAY ON!