Once again,
The curtains have fallen.
I cannot see him –
The light ain’t dim –
It’s just occluded
The play concluded.
Yet, again he picks
Coloured bricks
Of wood, and beads,
To decorate seeds
Of his plans;
My damned chance.
Play I will
Until he pays the bill
For the stage
And the cage,
And the box of dust
And neglected lust.
Monologues will rain,
Words will remain
Untouched, unheard –
Life is a bird
With wooden wings
And worthless flings…
– June 1st, 2015
© Sana Rose 2015