Quarter Hour Penny Theatre
QUARTER HOUR PENNY THEATRE
Where is my muse?
When I am a puppet
With no puppeteer
I wore out my shoes
Dancing alone
No strings attached
Scissors on a stage
Cutting a rug
Pen upon a page
Hacksaw in a cage
Sobriety is a drug
Hard to free yourself
I must amuse myself
The audience went home
The lights went down
All of the warmth I felt
Became the cold I know
In the dark, empty theatre
Copyright © Clay Young Jr. | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment