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Acts Of Life Lived On A Stage

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Below is the poem entitled Acts Of Life Lived On A Stage which was written by poet robin davis. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Acts Of Life Lived On A Stage

Everybody's life is
played
Magically upon a
stage
Shown in front of
everyone
Till our show is
finally done
No more acts to play
and share
The curtains
drawn--we disappear
Into a different
time and space
No more make-up on
your face
Making you a shining
star
But covers who you
really are
Someone trying to
get through
The acts of life we
have to do
New emotions every
day
From re-writes that
come our way
Never knowing how to
feel
Sometimes it just
doesn't seem real
As we're acting out
our parts
From the moment that
we start
Breathing on this
planet earth
Ever since our time
of birth
We have people in
our lives
Husbands, teachers,
bosses, wives
Friends and
kids--outsiders too
Scripting us our
lifetime through
Adapting to all the
scenes
Every feeling in
between
Drama, joy and
happiness
Love, enjoyment,
even death
Will fill each and
every page
Of our life upon
this stage
That we should try
and make grand
A show so big it
fills the land
With everybody's
acting skills
Giving other actors
thrills
They can use between
the pain
That will come time
and again
On the stage were up
then fall
Until our final
curtain call

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  1. Date: 11/21/2013 3:23:00 PM
    This is a wonderful write Robin, and you are so right. your lifetime is merely a story. it is best to live it well. The real you is hidden behind it all and needs to be found for happiness to come. I thoroughly enjoyed your poem....Peter

  1. Date: 10/26/2013 2:11:00 PM
    a great write Robyn, I'm waiting for my finale show... you presented this one with high flying curtains. outstanding... stop by my newest poem when you have the time...luv~ LINDA

  1. Date: 10/26/2013 7:57:00 AM
    I've always loved this quote from Macbeth: "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing."

  1. Date: 10/26/2013 7:52:00 AM
    To quote The Bard himself: "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages." Great poem, sweet pea <3

  1. Date: 10/26/2013 6:07:00 AM
    YES, WE LIVE LIFE ON THE STAGE PLAYING DIFFERENT ACTS, ROBIN.