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Poem

The night is loud with the sound of silence
As everything seems brighter in the glow of darkness
During this hours the body remains alert with slumber

Gently life’s hand rubs of the truths of today in preparation for tomorrow
Today’s failure hopefully will be forgotten in tomorrows victory

The curtains close to the end of another scene
God the play write takes one last look through his script
Its actors prepare,some unaware of their next role
yet tomorrow they awake into character
adorned in makeup and costume as need be

Every play has its end
While it lasts,some will awe the world and others terrify it
Maybe leave the world in stitches others in their wake will leave behind mourning

Roles sometimes inter mingle yet no two shall ever be a perfect parallel
The world and all around,our stage and props

You may not have written this play
Yet the choice is yours
Stick to the script or add a pinch of innovation
Become a beacon of light or a cloak of darkness

The key to interpreting each role will always be choice
Moulded in love or hate,each key will open a lifetime of scenes

Some from the onset prepare for the final bow
Some sit around waiting for the stage lights to go off
Others find the end short of a few scenes

But a cheering crowd was never promised
A standing ovation may be asking too much

Sometimes the silence from the gallery is worth far more than a thousand words
For the strongest emotions find no words for kin and the best stories never understood.

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