I stand on this stage
With a microphone in my hand
And the audience,
Well they don’t understand me.
And to be honest,
I didn’t think I’d make it this far.
But here I am,
Among the few remaining.
Just last night,
I couldn’t even decide what to wear.
And my sister?
Well she was less than helpful,
Glued to her electronic devices.
Sometimes I wish I could confiscate it.
I asked for her opinion,
Which I value greatly.
But she just shrugged,
“Yeah sure” she affirmed me.
Well they aren’t any different.
The older ones are all the same:
Typing, sending messages
Browsing and surfing
How I wish I could have last night again.
Before the nervous nightmares,
But I am here, upon this stage.
And the rest of them?
They’re dropping like flies.
Suffocating in their own doubt,
And not trusting themselves enough.
I am not like them.
Because just when I’m about to give up
They announce that I’m a finalist
And I just pass on the microphone
And wait for the last round.