Maestro! Maestro! My most cherished conductor.
It feels like yesterday when you taught me the most intricate rhymes.
You said I had the brightest future when you twirled me in a vibrant ball gown.
You applauded my notes of Mathematics and my creativity with the Sciences.
Did you know the world was a concert deprived of melodies?

Maestro! Maestro, my most creative counselor.
It feels like last week when you instilled in me the ethics of teen plight - Crooning a perfect (A)lto.
You said I had the cadence of a dreamer ready to share my sopranos with success.
You appreciated my vocal inputs on government and ameliorated my grammatical range.
Did you know the strings on a guitar can leave immutable scars?

Maestro, maestro, my most convenient comrade.
It feels like last month when you assigned me mellifluous keys to score my academics.
You said I was unsound when I sounded that the formulas were fading my ingenuity.
You admonished my vocals and assured that I sang the song of the audiences’ expectations.
Did you break my violin only to repair the tunes you deemed worthy of the opera?

Maestro, my conceited commander.
I know it's been years since our last curtain call, when you sent me on my life tour after graduation.
You educated me all my life on being the most melodious of them all, but you never taught me how to put on a show without a program.
You awarded me a certificate of silence and applauded your result.
Did you know your protégé has no more songs to sing?
Did you know, now that our band has disbanded I’m bound to sing solos of confusion?