A Fine Start To The Day

Don't Shoot The Xylophone Player

 He needed a means of coping

With the pain and suffering he had to endure

Being marred as he was by a soulless and heartless demon

So one afternoon, after watching a small parade

And for unknown reasons picking up the sounds

Created by the marching xylophone player

And then noticing the exuberant actions of said player

As he violently struck rubber-topped mallets 

Upon the small, wooden bars

That created the wonderfully 

                           Melodious interlocking tones

He found his salvation

And now he spent his days

Locked away in a small shed he built in the backyard

Practicing intricate rhythmic patterns 

With energy and enthusiasm

Rigorously and vigorously

Achieving an emotional and mental satisfaction

Beyond anything he could ever imagine