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.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.