ON THE STAGE?
I am trapped in the fifth row,
The theater that is my mind,
Waiting for my father to race
Across the footlights, leading
The way to my destiny(?). Yes,
Giving me the script of life to
Follow, the path to tread, and
How to behave like a man.
I am that forever actor, a
Frightened subaltern waiting
For my “director”to place me
On the right “spot” of the stage
To play my part in life, yet
Knowing when the curtain descends
That thunderous applause
Will be for anyone but me.
Every day that I have trouble
Getting out of my bed,
The bones start to creak
And the circus starts
Playing in the back of my head.
Is this what it’s like getting old
And all gray, my skin starting
To wrinkle with seventy degrees
Much too cold for the day?
I lay there wondering
Which day will be my last,
Then I crowd out those
Thoughts with memories
Of days long past.
Playing ball in the park
And riding on my bike,
Swimming at the beach,
What’s not to like?
There were party’s and
Girls and dances galore
The music was terrific
And I always wanted “more.”
I wish I could forget the
Mad behavior and drinking,
The damage I wrought,
What was I thinking? But
I have to concentrate
Just on today, leave yesterday
For the biographers and
Hope for another good day
" 10B1141"
The sharp clank of
the prison doors,
then the deathly quiet,
leaving only a chill
and sudden emptiness
that screams despair.
You are surrounded by
the pale, lime green walls,
dirt caked windows too
high to see out of, and
steel bars, steel bars
where ever you turn.
You want to scream,
“let me out, I’ll never do
it again”, whatever “it”
might be that landed you
here in the first place.
Inmates stare at you, those
vacant eyes, devoid of hope,
or any expression of humanity.
You look down at your forest
green “uniform”, worn thin by
those who came before you.
The block letters of your new
home, the name faded by
too many washings. Echoes
of furtive conversation suddenly
broken by the harsh commands
of “The Man” twirling his baton,
grinning wolfishly in hopes that
he may find his next victim..........
There is no individuality, no statement
that separates you from someone else.
Your identity has been replaced by
a number, one of many lacking a
past without hope for the future, nothing
but counting down the days and weeks
until the sun shines again in your eyes.
TRUTH
The search
for truth lies
within the soul.
You cannot see
You cannot hear
You cannot taste
You cannot feel
You cannot smell
TRUTH
It is beautiful when
used wisely, cruel
if used as a weapon.
Truth resides in all
mankind and its
purity is in its use.
My truth is not your
truth, nor is your
truth my truth.
It is the path between
the finite and the infinite
Happily, truth is the
foundation for love
and hope for tomorrow.
