music room 3

I played a piano with a chamber group of musicians in serious ways. I was in a choir that sang only for a religious ceremony. I was a chorale performing only hymn tunes. I was a cappella singer that voiced emotional words only in my musical schoolhouse. I used to have no room to present my own musical genre, rhythm, beat, tempo, tone, melody, and vocal style. Sadly, I took all for granted. One fine day… I met a musician with soulful chords. His written partiture magically voiced my cappella without musical accompaniment. His bass guitar touched my six strings with the lowest pitch of emotion peacefully. His classical piano represented my andante notation that I often played all alone. His enigmatic genre addressed my soulful refrains in a short opera badly. His ballad awaked my narrative poems into allegro tempo acoustically. His rhythmic music orchestrated my song cycles that no one could understand melodically. I could demonstrate my imperfect music to him. I obviously played mine on the street, at the cafe, on the beach, and other places where I felt its romantic tones. Solely, I am aware to re-arrange my musical brilliance in another ROOM with delightful VIEW