Preforming

Hands get sweaty 

Breath gets short

My stomach turns

Feeling paralyzed I find a way to walk

Facing fear I stand tall

Looking out, faces disappear

All alone 

All that matters is that I am here

Only letting the music, my voice, my movements, my face express what the audience needs to feel 

Ending with everyone loving the preformance

Understanding that it was real

This poem is about: 
Me

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