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The Little Violinist

You wait so patiently up on the stage,
You stand there tall, though young of age.
With shoulder’s square, you show no fear,
As you wait for the applause to slowly clear.
A moment of silence takes place all around,
As they wait to hear from you a beautiful sound.
You then hold the instrument up to your chin,
And stroke the strings of your little violin.
You notice out of the corner of your eye,
Your mom in the front row trying not to cry.
You see your dad sitting next to her, a big smile on his face,
For he’s proud that you have grown to have such extraordinary grace.
With splendor and elegance you play with expertise,
As you run the bow along each string with ease.
You hold each note so well and with care,
That others can’t help but smile and stare.
You play so exquisitely up on the stage,
You stand there confident, though young of age.
With shoulder’s square, you know they’re sincere,
As you take a bow to the audience who stand up and cheer.





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