The Curtain


My name. It scares me, and it forces me to hide.

I'm afraid of what people will say and what they'll think.

Consumed by my worries, soaked in tears that I've cried.

Not wanting to be noticed I make myself shrink.


Shagupta. The curtain that I stand behind.

Holding back desire, curiosity, and ambition.

Not wanting to come out for fear of what I'll find.

Forcing myself to deal with my own suppression.


I'm worthy. And I have so much to show.

No point in worrying, that's all in the past.

Performing is my dream, and I want everyone to know

I wish I were carefree of any judgment at last.


Dance. My passion since I was a child.

The movements and motions set me free.

Being able to put in my own style.

Makes me feel at ease, at a state of tranquility.


Without the confidence I get from dance.

I wouldn't have learned the truth about life.

That with every struggle lies a chance.

To grow and learn from one's strife.


The curtain. Existent only because of my fear.

  When in truth there was something I refused to see.

That the gossip I thought spread from ear to ear.

Was simply me bashing on...well, me.


Perhaps the curtain is not my name.

Although I forced myself to see it that way.

Pretending everyone would make fun like it's a game.

As if anyone would care enough to play.


I hid so much because I was always so afraid.

But what was there to be afraid of?

Just thinking about all the friends I've made.

Is proof enough that I have less hate and more love.


And on that note, let the curtains fall.

I am stepping out and into the light

There's a stage full of people, and I will wow them all.

It will be a journey, but I know I'll be alright.


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