Under a pavilion
many faces watch, hundreds.
Endless pairs of eyes.
None are looking at me.
I don't care.
I'm swaying along,
strands of blue and yellow
that are flowing in the air
such a beautiful fright.
I stopped thinking
about how mom and dad
were a no show
another pinky promise
broken.
Who cares now?
I'm just following Eric,
whose cringing his nose
the same way he did
before the music started,
he's about to stumble,
but wait he noticed,
and catches his balance.
Now he's just awkward,
impatiently halted,
in front of amusing Asian girl Amy.
Amy, she's blissfully lost,
confused, unaware,
that she's a second away
from falling,
only because Omar is ahead,
tangled in his own imagination,
not caring,
he's five paces too late
from our dance routine.
I'm in front of little Karla,
who's clustered with me
in the middle of chaos.
Quietly I listen
to the ooo's,
the awh's,
slowly I tune them out to hear
as the crickets cricket in my soul,
silence fills inside of me.
I can't hear my parents' voices,
my mind whispers who cares?
At the same time the cameras
begin to shutter
it only takes a moment
for the girl
wearing a blue and black vest,
with a musical note slapped onto it
to smile,
and respond who cares?
I do, my stupid heat responds,
my smile dims slightly,
as I suck that realization in
the wind breezes by.
I shake off my disappointment
by continuing on memorizing
and moving to the useless steps
of this dance.
Hoping in the mist
of its trance someone
would be watching me,
proudly.
