Curtain Poems - Poems about Curtain

Act one had just begun on the day we met how was I to know the die was cast and the stage was set Act two what was I to do when you stole my soul who'd have guessed the part was mine and I would play a leading role Act three now you're with me I put my heart into all I do should...

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When God steps onto the stage, the curtain slowly falls, And the world as we know it dissolves like a dream at dawn, A dream that becomes vapor, rising toward a timeless sky, And we stand on its edge, watching as all we knew Melts into a sea of light and shadow, Where outlines disappear and transform into something else, Something...

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I look on, reciting lines, reacting, responding, the lights are dim, the stage is cold. I dance across the scene, choreographed to my solitude, hurt, tired, done, but I never stop. Tears roll, screams echo, but I never stop. I almost collapse, I can't go on, but I never stop. I'm dead, my body rotting, but I never stop. I look to...

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Curtain Call (is an audience-led call for a performer or performers to return to the stage after a performance, typically in response to applause.) The curtains open. And there I am — on this stage. Out on display. Trying to obtain your love and Grace. Makeup to highlight my face. Girdle to shape my waist. Theater with seats filled. Mommy, Daddy, family, friends, you. Sitting front and center. Still trying to...

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I hold my silence like a sword, In battles no one sees me fight. My tears are ghosts behind closed doors, They only visit in the night. A smile’s the armor that I wear, Each laugh rehearsed, each word in line. No one suspects, no one can stare Into the cracks I call “I’m fine.” My throat is raw from swallowed storms, But still,...

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Staring at the mirror’s image, I see what others see; but can they see the need for love so deep inside of me? I hear my laughter just as loudly as those who see my smile; but can they hear the tinge of sadness that lingers for awhile? My posture mocks a stately stance, my gait is smooth and free; but can they see the...

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In the end we die alone In the end no blade to hone In the end do Angel’s call In the end when rhythm stalls In the end which deck unstacks In the end our health attacked In the end we pray for more In the end but fate endures In the end one final change In the end whose face remains In the end the bonds break free In the end — one last decree (Radnor Pennsylvania: May,...

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shield me from the world, my beautiful curtain, shield me from prying eyes shield me from the horrors of this universe, and all their pretty lies. the world sees how beautiful you are, my curtain, they see how much i adore you. they see your worth within your piece of cloth, of flowers and textures through and through. yet they don’t know the...

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Days when it rained Tapping rhythm on the rooftop The children stayed inside And would put on short plays unscripted theatrical performances Impromptu entertainment With a stage made of pillows mismatched sheets for theater curtains hung with wistful string Costumes put together from past Halloweens. Actors portraying vibrant quirky characters The last curtain call was many years...

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When you don't know what to do. Open this and it will speak to you! Don't listen to a Religious man. Get a translation you can understand. In Luke's book 24:45 you will find. Jesus had to open the Disciples minds! Without God, you won't understand. This book is His spiritual rescue plan. We're born spiritually dead, alive in flesh. About God and this...

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a woodpecker knocks telling me morning is here i bid her goodnight...

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Just the curtains veil from your window Too dark only the omnipotent has great eyes Vaguely so do I can't see you clearly through Where soft comfort can't deny you simply lies. I know how lonely you are inside with so much rage Languishing in pain secretly others may not truly see No courage to gain help to rescue like a...

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Behind the magnolia curtain, childhood ne’er knew. Drawn to Sleepy Hollow - over the river, really mountains; and the thruway, to Grandma’s we go. Magnificent magnolias, bountiful with perfume, born when I was steeped in maturity. Now I know the shiny leaves that tremble in hot ‘lanta breeze. Whilst the ghosts of the Catskills clip clop; shadows that fell the canopy of...

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Under the veil of night, death is just a drawn curtain, a dance of shadows that silently glides on walls, we do not collapse all at once, but slowly disperse, like autumn leaves carried by the wind into the unknown, piece by piece, under the merciless cut of time, a river that slowly spills into a sea of deep silence. The...

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