The auditorium breathes in the dark,
a sea of quiet waiting for a sign.
Then a single spot of light strikes the wood,
and you lift the mic.
When the song begins, it isn't just a sound -
it’s a sudden wave of warmth hitting cold air.
A gold string pulled tight across a heavy room,
cutting straight through the noise
until every heartbeat in the crowd aligns with yours.
You don't just sing the melody;
you build a place for everyone to stay.
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Comments1
Nicely written this poem speaks to me of a state that forms and a feeling. Nicely done
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