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Play of Life

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All the world’s a stage. The men and women, merely players.

But what they don’t tell you, is that sometimes you don’t pick the part you play. What they don’t tell you, is that sometimes you get stuck in the wings or in the background. What they don’t tell you, is that you don’t control a thing.


The comedy you signed up for can quickly change to a drama and then a tragedy at a moments notice.


To be or not to be, isn’t really the question.

The question is WHERE to be. You try to move downstage, but there are obstacles. There are people and places and faces that you’d rather stay away from, stopping you and telling you to read the stage directions.

Some are wrong. Some are right. Some tell you to get with the program and read your script.

But sometimes, there isn’t one.

Sometimes, your monologue comes and goes without so much as a spotlight.


If Romeo’s a rose, and poets are like madmen, what does that make you? When curtain is called, where will you be? Center stage? In the green room?
When curtain is called, will you celebrate? Will you take a bow or did you just wake up to find that you were only ever part of the scenery?

What they don’t tell you, is sometimes you don’t have a choice.

All the world’s a stage, the men and women merely players. But what they don’t tell you, is that you may think you’re playing the right character and saying the right lines, only to find you’re in the wrong rehearsal. What they don’t tell you, is that is might not even matter.

What they don’t tell you, is that you’re just one act in the play of life.




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