Standing up here alone
Your stares chill me to the bone
Afraid of rejection
For some imperfection
Public speaking they say is number one
I must agree this is not fun
I may stutter, I might just shake
Or if my voice begins to quake
So be gentle now, if you can
Please remember, I’m one scared man
My own fears I have made
I’m doing this for the grade.
(This poem was written for a literature class final where
I had to recite my own works for the first time.)