Poet at the bar,
karaoke night of blues,
“Yes, I can sing.”

A silent mic,
a crowd going wild,
“Yes, I can sing.”

A Cappella words,
silencing the crowd,
“Yes, I can sing.”

End verse one,
A scream shattering the silence,
echoing.

“YOU SUCK!”;

Skip record,
long pause,
“Oh wait! I can’t sing for shit.”

The poet who wrote,
the poet who sang,
and the poet who screamed.

No one else to judge him,
no one else but him,
we just stood by, cheering;

But I agree with the poet,
he really couldn’t sing,
for shit!

By: Viraj Belgaonkar