I'm stood in the rehearsal room,
Going through my lines.
I glance at my watch:
It is very nearly time.
The door of the room opens:
The Examiner is here.
And suddenly my mind
Is very far from clear.
I discover that my Examiner
Is none other than the Chief.
Suddenly, I fear that all my lines
Have been stolen by a thief.
I predict that I'll need prompting,
And that the exam will be a mess,
But with the process of learning lines,
Luckily, I'm pretty obsessed.
Stood in the exam room,
I consider my first line.
This is my big moment:
My moment to truly shine.
I begin my very first poem;
My legs shake with fear,
But I find that all my words
Are delivered loud and clear.
As well as my voice,
I use my hands and face,
And every single word
Is in its rightful place.
The exam is very soon over:
These exams are fairly brief.
And as I leave the building,
I'm almost crying with relief.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem