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Last Act
Folder:
July 2002 Poetry Lights, camera, action.
Her life is a play,
set on stage,
for all to see.
A happy screen play,
to cover up the pain.
Make the audience laugh,
they’ll never know.
Props set up,
to make her life,
look complete.
Make it look okay,
when really,
it’s far from it.
She’s sick of this life,
so she ends it,
on stage,
in front of all.
They’ll never understand her.
The curtains close,
her final act is over.
Cut.
~*~ Jill ~*~
