The Turtle Coming Out of Its Shell

My hands quiver 

My palms begin to sweat 

My stomach fills with butterflies 

Oh no! I’m not ready to go yet 

 

The audience seems menacing 

The lights oh so bright 

The focus is on me 

If only I could expel all my fright 

 

My dreams began to demolish 

My passions were patronized 

My love truly languished 

I would never be successful, I realized 

 

In four years down the road 

If only I knew 

I would sing for a crowd of thousands 

Gleaming with joy, through and through 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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