I stepped in to a black box

and it was dimly lit inside.

I lied about my age

in the audition,

a rendition of my own supressed rage.

 

All the world's a stage

and we will play upon it

a plot with holes;

a broken sonnet.

The curtain will fall

at the curtain call

and we'll catch a rose in our teeth if we have the gall.

 

There isn't a lesson to be learned

where you don't come out burned.

So you're not getting out of this one unscathed, kid.

Life inside a black box, origins unknown.

 

Spilling forth, a stream of feverish verse

from the bowels of a young girl's purse.

Suddenly, the entirety of her perceived world knows

the depth of her unkempt prose.

Life inside a black box, pulsations of arhythmia.

 

When trapped, 

we adapt to what confines and unbinds us.

We stumble through.

What else can we do?

Somehow, we'll all come out humble.

 

 

All the world's a stage

and we will play upon it

a plot with holes;

a broken sonnet.

The curtain will fall

at the curtain call

and we'll catch a rose in our teeth if we have the gall.