High Pitched

Up on the elevated side of the church facing the audience,
Where the voices reached the heavens in harmony
And my dry pitched "forzeto" joined in both ruining and complimenting at will.

Up on that barely concrete stage,
Sang a voice so blameless,
I bet the heavens were quick to meet this one that.
I had to hold my jaw to be sure it wasn't open like the others

Interestingly even our seats had lost comfort that standing in my undersized shoes felt ideal

The strings and keys were right but the pitch I heard subdued all notes to my hearing

It was hers and I knew it, feeling perfect where mine won't fit.
Forgive my description but something very magical could best fit.

Her voiced soared left my heart sore and I hummed along like a broken chord.

Don't think after here I'll go write a poem

After all what will I call it when it going to be all about her voice.

Pampanaa