The Cheer of a Life

The number stuck on my shirt is called

and I step up along with four other girls.

We go over the cheer only once before the the judge is ready for us.

We all walk in silent

and the room is three degrees too cold.

I avoid looking the lady in the eyes

as she is later going to become my best friend or worst enemy.

Before I am aware of it, she nodds ever so slightly

which means we can start.

I quickly snap out of my stupor and call out,

"Ready?" I say as loud as my voice will allow.

We all clap as one and return, "Ok!"

My body repeats the cheer that I feel is imprinted in my brain.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed