Grade
8
The cold creeps onto my skin
I reach my arms to the ceiling
A standing ovation
My bare feet are against the wood
Of a stage
I am alone
I am Free
I am focused
I am real
I am ready
I
Am
Free
A stage,
Where in an hour
We will dance
We will sing
A stage,
Now empty
Excites me
Into believing
That we can do anything
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