The Play

Sun, 02/28/2016 - 16:22 -- J.T.W

I'm alone in this world, of this I'm sure
I'm in a play called life, messing up my part knowing there's no encore
Things bother me now, that never did before
As things become clear, and more secrets be told my mind becomes sore
I know little of my script and barely know my part
I don't think my part will be a big hit, besides my beginning is off to a horrible start
Funny how the actors turn into the audience, seeing only as much as you want them to see
I'm brave but scared, smart but dumb, and strong yet weak
Kicked down so many times, sometimes I wonder why I don't stay on my hands and knees
But my playwright is God, and He knows everybodies part part better than the back of His hand
And although I don't, He knows my script beginning to end
I think and feel my way around the stage, since tears in my eyes feel like sand
Always go on with the show, all the way through , although some are uncertain they can
People see actors and stages, never thinking bout what goes on behind closed curtains
So the best I can hope is that my part is great, and ends in a grand finale
But I thank God so many more great actors will step in to change the stage long after me
Actors will remember and forget those who come, are going, and done came
They will remember,however, that the message remains the same
That although we're distinctly different, we were made by God and no matter the difference, all actors get clearance to the stage
So while we may shine brighter together, together we can make it a better stage and a better play.

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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