The grumpy little stardom steals the face away,
He clears off his throat to speak.
The sulking reality drips off as time refuses to sway;
Standing before them he seems meek.
The soulful eyes judges his conscience,
Turns him inside out as a pair of socks.
Legs feel lazy to carry his torso;
As he is used to living in a box.
He knows the song quite well enough,
Blinking seems difficult to what he rehearsed.
The mind starts commanding for him to sing,
And finally the silence broke with an echo of his.
Like an air borne disease the silence traversed,
Infecting them with its deathly symptoms.
He carries on as there is no morrow,
Till he finishes to fill their hearts with sorrow.
There he is! Standing in a lonely platform,
With a lonely light and a lonely mike.
Silhouetted as he stand with a shinning shoe,
Darkness behind him as his yesteryears.
They scream at their loudest content,
His heart screams at a joyous note,
As he has nothing but a humble smile to quote.
And why not, He is just…HAPPY!
