Every move was written by a great conductor,

I am but a puppet swaying to an old tune,

Smiling when I must smile, crying when I am told.

I dance in worn-out shoes of any and all size,

No word is truly mine – my tongue has long turned cold.

A mirror on the wall hidden in the limelight,

I have learned to reflect the glitter to your eyes,

It has made what I am since I have first performed;

Shivering in the lone, wishing I were alright –

“Nothing is created, everything is transformed”.

Watch me stumble about – a shadow at high noon;

Know, by this simple act, I am its destructor.


For a laugh.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.