My heart quickens its pace

As I sit, wait, and anticipate

Shaking hands, rattling teeth

Nervous beyond belief

Was I too fast? Was I too loud?

These are the questions I ask myself

Would my parents be proud?

Or like a trophy collecting dust, put me on a shelf?

Toes tingling, face warm

My heart is torn

I want to go, yet I'd like to stay

At home in bed, I wish I could lay

People encourage, while I protest

They say I did better than all the rest

I try and calm down

Without making a sound

Here it comes, the moment of truth

Like sitting in a photo booth

Waiting for the camera to flash

3... 2... 1... my heart turns to ash