At this Stage...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
All the world's a stage, and sometimes you feel like you've forgotten your lines.

Submitted: November 10, 2007

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Submitted: November 10, 2007

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I watch you play this masquerade
with your own groundless fears.
A feathered mask can't hide what years
and sorrow now invade,
and stolen youth can't help but fade,
white powder streaked by tears.
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You're on a stage without an end,
no truth beneath this lie--
there's nothing more than meets the eye,
no meanings left to bend,
just melding with the modern trend
of poetic last goodbye.
-----
A shallow stage, a hollow show
of actors scared to speak.
Their lines are lost in voices meak,
said far too fast or slow,
while mask-veiled faces, white as snow
speak chains to bind the weak.
-----
And those are chains you cannot break,
for one day soon you'll find
that more you fight, the more you bind
yourself to this mistake.
Your life's an easy one to fake,
and masks aren't hard to find.
-----
Now find an exit, take a bow
and vanish from the stage.
Your act is growing cold with age
and yet you wonder how
this role that is your freedom now
will one day be a cage.
-----
Hang your mask upon a shelf,
it smiles while you grieve.
Its comedy cannot decieve
the hours, first or twelfth.
Of all the lies you tell yourself
there's one you can't believe.
-----
For here's an act you need to see,
Tomorrow played by Never!
Timeless bond are soon to sever
and leave you weak but free.
The only hope this gives to me
is nothing lasts forever.


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