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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #884506
Just a play off of Mr. Shakespeare
All the worlds a stage,
And I am but a prop.
No opening lines,
No closing drop.

Time for Act One,
The gold curtains open.
Lines recited behind the fake.
Dreams are lost, and then?

Oh yes, Act Two...
Drama fills the stage,
Tears freely fall.
Time to turn the program page.

The Finale! One Two Three,
Everyone bow and smile too.
Curtains closing,
Closing to you.

The audience doesn't know my name.
But do they even care?
I was a wonderful tree
Autumn, and bare.

I close my eyes,
And take a breath.
Its time to wake up
To inevitable Death.
© Copyright 2004 brasilia (carlegg at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/884506-The-Stage