Martin Holm Sjölin

The Stage

The dancers dance their steps,
The singers sing their song,
And the musicians play their music.

And in the middle of it all the lone boy.
He with the music in his body,
the steps in his feet's,
and the song in his mouth.

And he steps up on the stage,
Sings his songs,
Dance his steps,
And plays his music.

And then the audience greet him with loud voices,
clapping hands and whistles.
And when it's all over he can't hear himself think,
the voices of the audience is to great.

Then the lights go out, and he's all alone.
With a memory,
with a passion,
with his experience.

And he will miss it, for the rest of his life.
Right now, that boy is me.
When I think about myself I find small faults,
but jet, everybody tell me it was great.

But to me it doesn't matter.
Because you missed it,
you weren't there to see it.

So my stage lights up again but only for you.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 21, 2009

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Comments about The Stage by Martin Holm Sjölin

  • Rebekah Gamble (1/21/2009 3:50:00 PM)

    I like this very much, but it need refined a little bit. I like that it's real. It has the breath poetry is supposed to be. There's no picking it apart and plucking out the heart. I like that a great deal.

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