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The Stage

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The stage,
More in my view than ever.
It was actually,
Too close for comfort.

 

Beading sweat,

Clammy palms.
It’s almost time,
My stomach churning.

 

The podium could not hide,
My shaking body behind.
I trembled at the thought,
My name was coming next.

 

It was all becoming too much.
The paper I was going to read,
Now hard to see,
From my tight grip on the page.

 

My voice came out,
Small, frail.
They told me to speak louder.
How did I get in this mess?

 

The large audience,
Overflowed with strange faces.
They would all judge me.
For what though?

 

My voice,
Finally picked up.
It was over,
And they clapped,
A smile erupting on my face.




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