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.