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