His audience awaits
Shifting restlessly
On comfortable seats
Some stare at phones
Others check clocks
All of them waiting
A long deep breath
Another follows after
A mantra behind each
Hands damp with sweat
He wipes them off
On his faded jeans
Suppressing his tremors
For a while longer
He stares at his spot
Imagines a circle
A circle of possibility
He can be anything
Be anyone he wanted
Inside the small circle
The crowd will see
Someone worthy
Of applause
Somebody worthy
Of accolades
Within that circle
He’ll be free
Free of the trembling
Free of self-doubts
Free of negativity
He breathes
His longest
Deepest breath
Parts the curtain
Walks and enters
His sacred circle
And becomes

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