A beautiful piece🖤

It’s almost my turn.

Like a lingering worry, The thought of being up on the podium hangs over me.

The feeling of dread

Like a disease, it multiplies as each second passes.

But they call me up anyway.

Like dust on the floor, I’m swept into

this darkness.

I walk up to the stage slowly.

Like a cat hunting, I’m careful with every step I take.

The audience is completely full.

Like at a social gathering, faces are everywhere I look.

I read the first line.

Like someone watching their favorite show, they begin to intensely watch me

I read the next line

Like steadfast listeners, their eyes won’t leave mine

So I finish the poem.

Like honeybees in the late spring, a millennium of cheers, claps and hoots swarm the room.