The modern day poet, praised solely in songs

Seeks righteous approval from all of his wrongs.

People heed not his words without beat

As they're quick to judge a man on his feet.

Fear is a beast best slain by a sword

So he grasped a pen as sharp as his word.

Writing until his week came to pass

He mustered the strength to perform for the mass.

Hundreds have gathered, not wholly for him

But for his four minutes the fear settled in.

His pounding chest thundered over their silence

But he faked the courage like that dog or the lion.

His last word was followed with cheers from the crowd

Where lack of placement couldn't replace him proud.

His lesson discovered with a newfound bold

He's going again but this year for gold.