The Treble With Love

A short poem about a young man's "trebles" with love.

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1. The Treble With Love

As she walked by, I could smell her perfume

Lilac, and something else I could not place

She was so beautiful

Like an angel, sent for me and me alone

I could hear my own heartbeat inside me

Pounding on my chest

As if she would hear that and see

Me, standing here, waiting for her to notice me

Hoping she will

The only thing I know is notes

Notes on a scale

Starting with a clef

Ending in a rest

The notes that, when on paper, mean nothing

Until you play them aloud

Then they come to life

Singing of whatever you feel

Notes, helpless on their own

Waiting to be empowered by a skilled hand

On an instrument or by mouth

With words or on their own

Sang to another or kept to themselves

Humble things they are

But mightier than a sword when used right

Music ties us together

But music cannot solve everything

For I am but a shy man

With no way to express my love for the angel here

I fill my days with sadness

Sitting at a piano that sings for me

The words I couldn't say to her

For notes are much more vociferous than I

Their honesty shows nothing but the truth of the heart

So don't doubt the notes words

I push the piano lid up and sit down, ready to play

And the notes, as usual, come to me

As if by magic

But I know, 'tis not magic that sets these notes up

It's sadness, the melancholy of my troubles with love

Or, with music, should I say

My treble with love

Today, I feel, is different

The notes sound sadder than usual

More beautiful than ever

I can't help but write it down

Each note a separate tribute to my love

Joining in a symphony of sounds

Of passion, love and desire

I scratch out the lines of a song on the blank sheet

Recording forever the feelings I feel today

I play, and write, and cry

When the page is full, I sigh in defeat

No matter how I try to drown my sorrows in an ocean of sound

I can never escape the sadness

It seeps into everything I do

So I take the page and slide it into a binder

Along with the songs I have collected before

Songs I have written before

Or of other men in my situation

But braver than me

Who use their notes to win their girl

Why can't I do the same?

I sigh and close the binder

I'll never be those men

XXX

The next day is the show

The open stage calls to the brave souls

Talent show, it says

I am talented in my music

No denying that

But not brave enough to show that

Person after person goes up

And shows their talent in the talent show

Many have the gift of music, too

Like me

In a sudden decision, something comes over me

My feet move on their own

Towards the stage

Towards the piano

Towards the place I feared

And I sit down, like so many times before

And open the lid

All eyes are on me

But I don't see them all

I see the one pair I was watching the whole time

I pull the microphone towards me and say,

"This is for the one I love."

And I play the song I wrote for her

The notes are soft, sad

They cry with me

I cannot stop the tears

Luckily the piano can hide me from view

Except from her

I can't hide from her

When I finish, I pull the microphone again

And look at her, the only face I see in the crowd

"For you," I say

She is amazed, but I don't see

I run off the stage where she can't see

Alone, backstage

I sit alone and hide myself away

But for some reason-

Fate, maybe, or a divine intervention

I cannot hide from her

My heart stops as she finds me

And hugs me

And says those words I've dreamed about-

"I love you too."

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