Preforming
Hands get sweaty
Breath gets short
My stomach turns
Feeling paralyzed I find a way to walk
Facing fear I stand tall
Looking out, faces disappear
All alone
All that matters is that I am here
Only letting the music, my voice, my movements, my face express what the audience needs to feel
Ending with everyone loving the preformance
Understanding that it was real
This poem is about:
Me