In theater, dance, and even song,
I hid behind characters I portrayed:
a hero's display, a villain's shove,
the mournful cry of unrequited love,
but my own voice shyly hid in the shade.

Cheer allowed no masks or shade to find
and challenged me to fully understand
how to be loud, expressive, enrapt
and wholly outgoing without the act;
forced me to become secure with who I am.

At the silent start of every game,
full of awkwardness and consumed with fear,
with most fans pouring into the gym,
but no adrenaline pouring within;
it was me assigned to call the first cheer.

I felt intimidated and nervous
with the attention drawn on my bare soul.
At first, my nerves drowned out my voice
with timid thoughts I now ignore as noise.
Each game, I learned to star in my own role.

I have a new perspective on life.
The experience resonated fine
beyond the loud echo of my calls;
I adapted, to conquer my pitfalls.
No more shade for me; I am here to shine.