I love the stage; it’s my home away from home,

It’s the audience that seems like garbage,

Various amounts of used energy,

Riding my every word like a bicycle,

Up hill, down hill,

And I use the curtains as my cover,

To grasp me in the moment,

And my hands are full of sweat,

And I can see every eye watching,

My every move, and just as I begin,

I lose my voice, I lose my strength,

And I’m in back of the room

Once again imagining that I could be back,

To my love, my home away from home,

The stage where there’s comfort alone,

With no one watching, no one judging,

Lights out, curtain call, bravo.

Thank you Andrew Tyree

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