Staged Presence

Who pressed 'play' on your heart today?

Did they stand up and leave the crowd?

Did they claim that your act's too lame,

And that they hate that you're too loud?

Is this, at all, your best of bets?

Is this everything you'd hoped for?

'Cuz your friends are less than impressed,

And fiends are breathing on your door.

You realize something horrible:

Not here 'cuz you're adorable;

Your heart's a cherry cordial,

An incorporeal morsel.