I’ve written more words than I’ve said
Just to make space in my head
I write of my demons, so they’ll go
Making room for more – I’d rather not know
~
Perhaps this is a writers curse
A play never-ending we can’t rehearse
The stage set high, the pit is deep
The curtain falls yet I can’t sleep
~
A costumed impostor, naked, pen in hand
Conducting blindly a leaderless band
Actors, black and blue all look the same
Though some quite vicious, most are tame
~
On each sheet lay a one-act play
Performing soliloquy day after day
Awaiting intermission – after applause
Make believes effect and cause
~*~
Sck062015