Marching Band Poem by Brie Carter

As the snare clicks
My feet hit the ground
Steady with the beat
I can't look around

To see the large crowd
All eyes on us
With an adience this size
We better not mess up

The adrinaline's pumping
I'm ready to go
We stand at attention
waiting to start the show

The drummajor counts off
And the music starts
We sound just fine
The beat matches my hearts

I can smell the night air
And the freshcut grass on the field
The best smells in the world
To match the weopons we weild

Friday night lights
Go well with the band
As we finish up
The adience claps and then stands

Mark time mark
We march off to our seats
my uniform is uncomfortably tight
But I must say, our band is pretty sweet.