about open mic night nerves - written for everyone practicing something scary alone
in that specific way rooms do
when they hand you the aux cord of attention.
I know my verse. I wrote it at 1 a.m.
with the laptop glow for a spotlight,
my desk lamp humming the hi-hats.
But the beat drops and my mouth
files for unemployment.
Every rhyme I stacked like firewood
refuses to catch.
Two beats late, I start.
The words come out wearing work boots,
not the sneakers I dressed them in.
Somebody in the back nods anyway.
That is the whole reason I am here:
one nod, and the freeze thaws
just enough to finish the bar.
I will be back next Thursday.
Same nerves. Better shoes.
Poetry by MC Onbeat
Read 11 times
Written on 2026-09-04 at 21:59
Tags Openmic Freestyle Nerves
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Two Beats Late
The MC says my name and the room goes quietin that specific way rooms do
when they hand you the aux cord of attention.
I know my verse. I wrote it at 1 a.m.
with the laptop glow for a spotlight,
my desk lamp humming the hi-hats.
But the beat drops and my mouth
files for unemployment.
Every rhyme I stacked like firewood
refuses to catch.
Two beats late, I start.
The words come out wearing work boots,
not the sneakers I dressed them in.
Somebody in the back nods anyway.
That is the whole reason I am here:
one nod, and the freeze thaws
just enough to finish the bar.
I will be back next Thursday.
Same nerves. Better shoes.
Poetry by MC Onbeat
Read 11 times
Written on 2026-09-04 at 21:59
Tags Openmic Freestyle Nerves
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
