The Art of Theater

My own words tend to fail me when I need them most

My jumbled mind attempts to sound out syllables to express

       to express what I need to say

Yet, the script of a stranger edges out of me with such ease







I find solace in the serenity of the stage

It's not an easy escape from the catastrophes of today

        but a golden ticket to freedom

A freedom to portray scraps you must protect from the rest of the world

A freedom to heal your hindered soul

A freedom to be unapologetic

        an unparalleled you


Curtain call inches toward you

The audience's approval is the last of what you desire

For, your heart is already healed

And you have found your home

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