Love Poem: The Life of a Young Saxophonist
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Written by: Joseph Giordano

The Life of a Young Saxophonist

Maybe I was meant to be alone
Just me and my saxophone
Playing wasteful nights away
Practicing all those notes everyday.
Staying home and thinking
About all the fun I’m missing
Having to study for some useless knowledge
All because I need to get into college.
Why do I have to do this on my own?
I hate being alone.

My saxophone is my life, but a curse
I can see it now: it will be me and my sax in a hearse
The mourners there wondering why I died so young
Saying I had it all and ended it with a gun.
They don’t know the life I was living
The struggle I went through everyday just sitting
Putting a knife to my wrists because I couldn’t write
Music that was to my delight.
They never knew because it was never shown
How I hated my life, how I hated being alone.

So what should I do? Someone please help me
I’m becoming depressed, insane, and just crazy
I need someone here to help guide me
Someone to motivate me and help me become free.
Maybe I’ll just say “F-it” and end my life right now
But there are too many lives that I will ruin, please god tell me how?
How do I get released from this stage of depression?
I’m just a teen and I already have so much aggression.
I’m so confused about what to do
Maybe if I just think for a while, it will come through.

Let’s see, what about the sax is so appealing?
Well, even though the sax is my curse, I love the feeling
I love the sound, and how I can take my anger out
From all the stress that is being brought about.
If it wasn’t for my sax, I would have already committed suicide
In a grave somewhere next to some wasteful talents who have died
So maybe it isn’t all that bad
Maybe I should be happy with my life and not sad.
The sax is the only guide I need in my life
So I don’t really need this depressing knife.

I have decided to keep playing until I am known
As the greatest to ever play the saxophone
And maybe one day when my sax has lost its tone
I will no longer be so utterly alone.