Mediocre

I sing at bus stops.
A stranger says “I love your energy.”
Best compliment ever.
Couldn’t say “I love your singing,”
’cause honestly I sing awfully.
I know this,
but still I find myself at the top of my lungs.

I sing in public bathrooms.
People hear the echo from outside.
They stare a little as I walk out.
Doesn’t matter though;
I’m on top of the world,
lost in my headphones.
Can’t rain on my parade
’cause I won’t hear any negative word they say.

I sing in school hallways.
Do my peers judge me?
Who cares?
‘Cause I know I sure don’t.
They’re studying for an exam,
as I’m sitting here writing this poem.

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