The Song

He now walks onto the stage,

Six steps to there, no more no less.

With each step he makes not a single thump,

Between each step he times exactly same.

A breath to sustain exactly a line,

With that he starts to sing a song.

Each note hit with the required pitch,

Each beat matched with the demanded sound.

He continues to sing a song,

With nothing goes even slightly wrong.

He does not look around, he does not wander,

His thoughts never deviates from what he does.

With a final note he bows and leaves,

Six steps down back, no more no less.

Yet no waving he sees, no claps he hears—

He does perfect, but it is not well.