the arena glows to play tricks on the mind
acting as a prop to dreams while the spotlight shines,
down, onto this stage with the discomfort of a single surreal stare
we see only what the backdrop allows,
and hear only what the playwright has written
we are the crowd, and we are the players
inevitably fading off stage with lines spoken in angst,
a soliloquy unheard, last words on such a terrific tragedy |
Submission Name: In the Spotlife
