Concerto | Poetry Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I hope you’re doing well.


We draw our bows across the strings
and the cadenza echoes through the hall.
Silence falls.
One breath.
And applause.

I stand to take a bow among my teammates
like we have conquered something within ourselves,
presenting it for you to see.
The weight on my shoulder melts off
and all the sudden, the griping pains of rehearsal
fade into joy.

Winding corridors.
Bright lights and unfamiliar faces, but
not you
not here
not yet.
Crinkling flowers
Hugs and kisses
Selfies and congratulations
The latest gossip and if that guy who played the bass was hot.

There’s this loneliness after a concert
as I rejoin the regular, brandishing my weapon of choice
looking for the hero I saved through my persistent hard work.
There you are, beaming.
And my soul can finally rest.

I wrote this piece in honor of my concert that took place on Tuesday. If you didn’t know, I’m also a musician and I mainly play the violin. I’ve been playing the violin since I was in third grade, so about 13 years now and in college, I play the violin for the Symphony Orchestra which is amazing. There have been several times where I’ve teared up simply from the beauty of the music. So, I like to write about my musical experiences, but oftentimes I find that they’re indescribable.

After my concert on Tuesday, I was leaving the stage and felt this flood of loneliness which is odd because I should feel a sense of accomplishment. After a lot of thinking while meandering through the crowd, I came to the conclusion that throughout my musical career, I always had to wait for my loved ones after a concert. In high school, there would be some concerts that my parents couldn’t make so I would leave by myself. Sometimes parents would burst into the “waiting room” with flowers and collect their child, exclaiming “Great job! We’re so proud of you!” All around me, people would be talking and I would kind of be silent. I didn’t really have many friends and I typically kept to myself. I think I got used having to wait, but it doesn’t help that I see this celebration around me. Would I say that I’m jealous? Of course.

It’s a really bizarre feeling. From the adrenaline high of performing with the high concentration to make sure you don’t mess up to a strange sense of feeling lost in a building that you’re so familiar with — like everyone and everything became strange to you. Only until you see your parents or friends light up as they finally find you, the sense of accomplishment comes. Am I the only one to experience this? I don’t really enjoy this feeling because it really throws me off. I guess I won’t ever forget those lonely feelings, but I will always also remember those feelings when I was presented with flowers, asked for a picture and complimented. That embarrassing feeling is a good one.

Well, I wrote that poem about that confusing emotion and hopefully I’ve captured it and that you can somewhat relate as well.

Thanks for reading!



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