Get Your Premium Membership

Read Modernist Poems Online

NextLast
 

Performance

Panic or stage fright, oh my,
A crowd awaits, let me sit, oh why?
Better standing, oh the nerves,
Good morning? No, good afternoon it serves.

Oh dear, I don't even know what I'm saying,
How am I feeling? I can't stop swaying.
Help me escape this overwhelming feeling,
Or I might just faint, my head is reeling.

Am I talking too fast? You won't understand,
Shhhhh, hush now, let me take a stand.
Mental peace, quiet down, let me think,
Excuse me, just a second, let me sync.

How's it going, alright, maybe not?
You'll be amazed, my hands won't stop.
My voice might wear thin,
Why am I even here, it's a chaotic din.

Will you like it? I'm not a pro,
Stop staring, but please, hear me, though.
Lucky you, sitting there,
Watching my lips move, as I share.

Charmed I am, to share a part of my life,
A chaotic teen, lost in strife.
Books and poems, lost in letters,
In the modernist poet fetters.

This world's messed up, or is it not?
Smiling outside, hiding panic, a lot.
Stage fright or fear of being a flop,
Flop! Oh, what a word, makes my heart stop.

But why is failure such a dreadful name?
We're all human, we've all played the game.
Panic or stage fright, which one do I face?
Maybe I'll never conquer it, leave no trace.

It might linger, haunt me till my last breath,
But it won't hurt as much, and that's strength.
So, panic or stage fright, have I won?
Maybe not, but at least the battle's begun.

Copyright © Ariana Pataki

NextLast



Book: Shattered Sighs