Every morning he wakes up and sighs,
To God he constantly prays.
He hopes that today is the day he won’t lament,
Because finally someone will notice his talent
As he shares his beautiful voice with the world
He prays that the entire world will hear,
His fascinating voice, so beautiful and so soothing,
He hopes that the gargantuan crowd will cheer
As they wallow in his music and award him a prize well deserving.
The day ends and he prays that his jubilee day is near.
He shuts his eyes and thinks of his aged father.
His old, crackled voice advising him that patience pays.
Maybe he has to work harder
And to God he constantly prays.
Hallelujah! His Holy Name he must praise.
His voice flies out in a mesmerizing song.
But the world, it is clear, does not care.
For many are talented and maybe he doesn’t belong,
And if his resilience does not flare,
His hard work will not pay for long.
Every day he performs failing to fathom,
This world so cruel to him for so long,
He thirsts for a standing ovation; one lasting all night long.
His day will come, and he will prove his haters wrong,
But until then, he has to stay strong.
When many months later he gets his chance,
He knows that it’s either then or he will bounce.
Vanishing into an abyss of oblivion is not a choice,
So out loud in spellbinding beauty is his voice,
His father would be proud without a choice.
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