Hands sweat with anticipation,
Mic in palm, calm, keep calm
It’s just a poem, a song, an interview
Will you let them enter your view?
What will the first question be?
Will I say the truth? Will I tell a lie?
With each question will I live, or die a little more inside
Will I hit the first note?
Will I get stage fright and choke?
Will I forget my lines?
The nerves eating me alive
I breathe in deep. Sip from the glass to my right
As the white host goes “Welcome, so and so to the show”
I smile. Laugh off the jitters, playing the part
Then it starts.
Only time will tell how this goes, parting lips, tongue untied
“My name is so and so and I …
I …
I…”