Wipe the sweat off my brow
Phew..what do I do now?
I need another drink
jeez..what will they think?
I'm scared flaming stiff!
Oh my word......what if!?
What if I drop the poem on the floor?
Should I make a run for the door?
I can feel my hands shaking,
they must know that I am quaking.
What if I trip on the stage?
I won't live it down for an age.
Flat on my face, or legs in the air!
'She's an open-mic virgin!'
They'll laugh and they'll stare.
Should I sit on the chair?
Or do I just stand there?
It'll be my worst nightmare!
Please, no jeers from the crowd .
Review - " 'flop' of write out loud!".
They're gonna call my name,
whose idea was it I came?
Should have gone to the loo!
Oh no...it's me!...that's my cue!
I glance round the room
to the stage of my doom.
They've all done it before
they're confident and sure.
Will they hear my knees knocking?
What if I start coughing?
My legs are so weak
hope my voice doesn't squeak!
No escape now, I glance at the door
and carefully shuffle my feet on the floor,
nervous and timid I peer over the page
standing there awkwardly on that big stage.
Thirty pair of eyes, staring at me!
Patiently waiting expectantly.
Oh God! I need to make a start,
dry mouth and pounding heart.
Deep breath........one, two, three
.....crap! False start.....four, five....
...I get ready to duck and dive...
.......will I make it out alive?........
..........................................
.....two minutes later........
.........Wow! Was that me?
All anticlimactic and shuddering gone
I realise the enormity of what I have done.
Spent, and weak kneed with cathartic relief,
I hold my head high with newfounded belief.
Glowing and radiant, I stride to my chair
feeling that I may have something to share,
and finally thinking, I belong somewhere.