The Show

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The gracious stage
forbids me from its
cold embrace.

Left me out to dry on
the streets of which
I now beg.

It took my passion,
my drive,
my life.

I have nothing.
no home.
no soul.

Then he comes,
picks me up and
dust me off.

"Today,"
he says,
"is your day."

Takes me to
his place and
cleans me up,

hands me coffee
"now go
and seize it."

To the stage
I leap
once again.

Ready for
my bitter
revenge.

I turn to
the crowed
and bow.

The curtains
close, it is
the end.





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Wonderment said...
Dec. 24, 2011 at 1:49 pm
Again, I like it. Its good stuff, i like your style.
 
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