Rhapsody in my writing

May I stutter?
These notes are scattered.
You can only hear whispers of my voice.
Pianissimo please
shadows of birds perch on my shoulder
They whistle, with the treble clef
I hear your pencil tapping on your book
it's worn out, with its cardboard corner peeling off
My pants brush on this bench as I get up
Oh here we are.

The ants look up at me
one foot after the other I make the ground tremble
I am big and fat. I am unashamed
I yell, " Hey Come over here and look at this"
But I immediately take back the statement
One final plea for this poem
Crescendo please
Finally