Camera upright,

Lighting is perfection,

Tears fall freely,

Thanks to those cut onions atop my desk.

Lines memorized,

Fame woven, kept in mind,

Money might burn before my eyes,

Heavens know that can’t happen…

Camera records,

And deeply, I sigh,

Apologizing,

Using bullshit lies,

“I’m sorry”,

“This is hard for me to make”,

“I didn’t know”,

“This video is sponsored by—“

Tears fall more—

Damn, I cut too many onions,

Aw man…** **I can’t fix it,

I can’t even rub my eyes,

I speak as minutes stroll,

And it drags for what feels like years,

Spewing words with half-baked blame,

Selling it as well made apology cakes.

I finish recording,

I sigh, with relief instead,

Name the recording something plain,

And see the lukewarm reactions,

Well, at least I didn’t use my ukelele.

(Might make another poem for this prompt but oh well. I wanted to make something silly!)