Prelude

P In a play to be titled with purpose unknown; One quarries the listener’s with a sad undertone The inducer induces the director directs; And as user abuser the actor injects. The soldier has stumbled with a stuttering step; And a sickness unwanted in his mind now has crept. For all he once fought for now seems out of place. And the heft of his bundle now shows on his face. And what are their reasons can anyone guess; The answers are numerous but questionable at best So be it action or drama or a showdown with guns It’s all but presentation life’s theater has run. But has anyone noticed or anyone gaged The face in the mirror on the set of the stage; Is it the phantom or the wizard of Oz? Or perhaps it’s the writer just hoping for cause.