This poem is inspired by our first festival, which was yesterday. This is for the judges, who gave us a score we didn't deserve and sent us home with nothing, when we did way better then some of the other bands that got higher scores and captions. Those judges cango to hell-_- every band got ripped off, either by getting overscored or underscored. Our band went home with a "Good" and no captions. This being my junior year, this band has gotten nothing nearly as low at any festival as long as I've been here. My freshman year we got all excellent and at least 1 caption at each comp. Last year, we got all excellent, and a superior, as well as 8th band in our entire division in our state. Also at least 1 caption at each comp.
Excitement overwhelmed us,
As we marched onto the field.
Nervousness then joined it,
As we began to get the feel.
Pride became the winner,
Our show the best its ever been.
We worked to get it there,
And surely we would win.
We watched the bands politely,
Saying not a word.
We listened and we focused,
Every note we knew we heard.
The drum majors then left us,
Excitement won again.
We cheered until they came out,
And the sunlight began to dim.
But as our name was called out,
For nothing but a good,
Our excitement grew to sadness,
Depression chilled our blood.
We walked away with nothing,
Our work was all a waste.
We only have one more try
To make it back to state.
What happened to us last year?
Our band was of the best.
But now without a director,
We've gone back to being the worst.
7 years have gone past
Since our director had first come
He brought us from the point we're in,
And now we've gone back down.
The silver linings fading.
The tunnel has no end.
The light is never coming
Although I've long been dead.