The retinas target the illusions, 

Focus their eyes on the grandeur image.

Imagine, joy and laughter - Conclusions

assumed from a smoke and mirror visage. 

 

Welcome, to the spectacle of my smile, 

the fanfare of my voice, these are the shows.

The bright light firework glint in my eyes, I’ll

repeat time after time - until they go.

 

Because, 

who wants to see what happens behind the curtains when they close?

Construed illusions made to uplift those who are grandeur

Because,

beauty and success can never root 

From hardship. From sweat. From pain. From regret.

The audience comes for the show, but rarely stays for the credits. 

I’ve sold my soul,

 to this image, in exchange I’ve gotten the skills of an actor, the strength to pull the harnesses, and the guts to put on a show.

 Yet, I cannot blame the customer, 

for this is the reality I have chosen to embed in their mind.

Pay close attention to detail.

The stage is 3 feet away from the first line of battalion eyes attacking the show. 

The fogged words, spew out of the pulmonary smoke machine and we stand just far enough for the wind of your laughter not to blow the dress of our confessions away.

The mirrors, distort the images making the actor look so original,

a monument of a person, an idol to strive to become, a hero who has no room for cowardice       in his eyes 

Disregard, 

the slim thread shimmer above his wrists and the voice of society reciting his lines from behind the curtains. 

Bright lights shone down on this actor for they are the star of the show.

So much attention drawn to them,

the beauty of misdirection, 

as you search for their problems in their speech,

yet their sleight of hand has shoved it into their sleeve.

Oz,

Why were you so careless with your act? 

Did the life behind the curtains not suit you? 

Was opening your curtains relieving

 or disappointing, as they dissected the reality of who you are?

I am not you Oz,

for the act is not beautiful if 

The hardship. The sweat. The pain. The regret.

Do not stay behind the smoke and mirrors…

 

Come again and drink the grandeur shows potion.

Because as curtains close - curtains open