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Gedicht: Michael Jackson FW

Lights turn on, lighting up the danceroom.
no one's there.
No sound.
A soft squick on the floor as my shoe touches the wooden ground.
approching the middle of the floor.
turn around, face the mirror.
waiting for the right moment
concentrate.
take a deep breath
inhalate the silence
the rare silence in my life
closing my eyes.
imagine the fans
screaming
crying
fainthing
"Michael, Michael, Michael."
I open my eyes.
I face them all
I can see no one
but I know they're there
screaming for me
yelling for me to move
but I stand
I stand there all alone.
I turn away from the screams
the yells
the cries.
I can still hear them, but I don't listen.
the cries fade away.
fade away like shadows.
sometimes silence is all you need
But all you need isn't silence.
I turn
walk
hear my footsteps on the floor
I hear nobody around me
no yells
no screams
no cries.
is this life?
is my life based on screams?
It feels like it is.
Cause when I don't hear them I do not feel alive.

Over het gedicht:

I felt like writing, so I decided to free-write a quick poem/story about Michael in his own danceroom, hearing his fans screaming while they're not there. he's used to the screams, but wants silence sometimes.