​The Giant Felt Small

He was six foot five but felt five foot two,

In a room of a hundred he knew barely a few.

With seven harsh words, his confidence split,

A dozen times over, he felt every hit.

Ten fingers trembled, one head low with despair,

A thousand sharp glances, hung around in the air.

Two times he’d tried, he felt one time too much,

Zero support in the hundred eyes’ clutch.

The crowd felt like masses of thousands or more,

He shrunk yet again, till he felt four feet four.

Many times they laughed, yet not once did they see,

That the giant felt small, lost in numbers, was he.