all the world's a stage

isolated and exposed once again,
but left with no one to watch
my performance is overrated,
costumes shabby and tattered
the critics don't care anymore
and the audience has left
gone home to comfort and love
my ideals never realized

left to impress the empty seats
and ghosts in the air
my true companions, simply spirits
leftovers of life and memories
scars have lost their meaning
its time to mature
this longing for instant gratification
never fulfilled, empty pitcher

FILL ME SOMEONE, PLEASE!!!

please present a script to reenact
before each fradulence is shown
confidence burning in my eyes
just part of today's character
this chameleon is losing options
the senery changes too quickly
never keeping up, so I quit trying
my attempts no longer matter

but what has been left behind?
each layer pulled away
but how much longer can I last?
until this world realizes, there's nothing left
no deeper meaning to these words
playacting at strength

but once the last light is extinguished
the empty amphitheatre echoes silence
no eloquences or wit to show
an elementary script from a second-rate bard
without cues and direction I'm confused
my roles are so lost
no costar to feed from, no muse
dark stage with these cobwebs overrunning
intertwining through my mind
filling my mouth with their dryness
rooting me to my mark, awaiting

the next performance will start soon enough
and end in this way
death follows life, each scene passes
costume changes, then off to makeup
lets see who I'll become tonight
line after line races faster
dragging me to the anticipated end
lovers reunited, and good prevails
all the world is realigned
next, bows are taken
roses and congratulations handed numbly
smiles and relived mistakes exchanged
the crowd is pleased, the money well spent
I could never outdo myself,
until tomorrow's show of course
lines are ran, inflections discussed

who am I this turn around?
quiet and cute?  battered and broken?
or part of some insignifigant backdrop?
just give me direction, make me fit the act
without the theatre and packed seats
I'm lost...
no heroine or rascal, or weeping lover
a moving mannequin
waiting for my next outfit
dress me as you will, doll me up

absolute stillness, unbreakable silence
point the direction, I'll follow
all I ask is a purpose.
tell me who I shall be
deciding for myself never works,
the memory blanks and I speak too fast
true life gives no inspiration
I'm not sure who to play

without the shining lights,
and rapt attention...

I'm nothing

only vapors and dust swirling in the light