It was just a life – full of forgotten possibilities!
Rewritten for the Hopeless Romantic and designed to suspend all disbelief…
A kind of script she was too eager to accept without studying it too closely;
Lots of familiar Players commanding the stage in their clever and elaborate disguises;
They were a welcome distraction to an otherwise empty, lonely space.
Always standing face forward, always mesmerized by the bright lights;
Never focused on the cast beside her, behind her, below her??
Unaware of the growing shadows lingering at the left and the right.
She lost count of all the times there was silence where a line should have been…
Silence — another kind of answer- one that doesn’t require too much elaboration.
And while the foolish playwright scribbles recklessly on,
She holds her breath
So Desperate for an alternate ending that would explain even the comic errors
Time can’t still the story-
Love can’t clear a doubtful heart
And once the Hand reaches into a murky puddle
The Water can never be the same twice;
For there are 3 things in the world which cannot long remain hidden:
And the TRUTH.