Sonnet CLXIX

So Mozart’s for the rich and old some say
and has a haughty air of grace demure.
One thinks of “classical” as haute couture –
I beg to differ greatly. Hear my tale:

The many times I’ve sat a sullen day,
abandoned by some friends who needed cures
as they were drained and aurally so hurt
because I played them Bach and Chopin’s ways.

The many times I drained my parent’s cash
for classical CD’s and lessons too
and books and such. Is that what splendour is?

But many teenage friends of mine think trash
of modern junk. So leave that waste with you;
I’ll keep my ever-youthful, luscious Liszt.