The Other You

October 7, 2009
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I'm nervous.
I'm shaking.
I'm moving.
I'm making
my way to the front.
To the top of the crowd.
I'm careful.
I'm cautious.
I'm giddy.
I'm nautious.
I wanna get out.
Make that final step
to the stage.
To the curtain.
I'm trying but I'm hurting.
I'm walking.
I'm smiling.
I'm talking.
I'm filing
these pictures of faces
of unfamiliar places.
I'm soaking it up.
I'm laughing.
I'm wishing.
I'm having a ball.
I'm missing my room.
The crowd is now fierce.
They're all lions.
And suddenly they stop.
Suddenly I'm silent.





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igotchucks92 said...
Oct. 16, 2009 at 9:07 pm
Actually, this poem is called "stage fright". I was on the phone when I typed it... so... ya know. I'm an idiot. :P
 
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