Maroon

I held my trumpet for the first time

7 years ago on the first day of 6th grade

I was beaming with joy

The world around me was so bright and hopeful

Radiating neon pinks and bright yellows.

Now, as I prepare to pursue music for the rest of my lifetime

The world is no longer bright and colorful

But rather filled with rich maroons and majestic shades of purple

My trumpet has matured with me

It is symbolism of my hard work and dedication

When I pick up my horn

Gently placing it upon my lips to play a sweet, sweet melody

The world becomes so rich and peaceful

It’s almost as if the world pauses for just a moment

To hear the powerful, vibrant sound of the trumpet

When the world stops to listen

A deep, marbled purple seeps out

Surrounding the air with a beautiful song

Once the color begins to fade and I gently set the trumpet back into the case

A layer of maroon pollutes the air

Begging for more of the soft tune

Desperately attempting to bring the dark purple out once more

The maroon does not fade until the purple seeps back into the sky

Surrounding everyone and everything around

The maroon acts as a reminder to everyone

That the rich purple will be around again.

What was once innocence and excitement

Has morphed into thick elegance, blessing the world with its song

The world continues to beg for the luscious tone to surround it once again

And that, it will receive.