The bright glow from the phone illuminated her face,
Tears forming,
Lips parted,
Eyebrows furrowed.
Her grip tightened on the phone,
her only crutch keeping her sane,
and to cope with the sadness.
Keep it together.
Don't cry.
Don't let them see you like this.
Her head falls and the glow disappears,
leaving her in darkness, defeated.
Everything we have worked for,
Every **** hour spent,
And this is how it ends.
Don't let them see you like this.
Don't cry.
Keep it together.
A tear rolls down her porcelain cheek,
and it is too late.
She's been spotted.
I wrote this because I do One Acts (Competitive Theater), and we had districts today. There were Eight schools in this competition, and we got our results in the end: Dead last. It wasn't the actors or plot, it was the time! Truly, this was our very best performance, everyone thought so! It was just that we had two minutes over the time limit. 30 minutes is the limit, and well, we had 32. The problem was that the coaches tried added more ensemble parts the day before. The parts were good, I had liked them, they just sent us over the limit. I only ever write poetry when I'm sad, or angry, or simply upset, and this is one of those times. that poem explaims that we had worked hard and put our heart and souls into this, yet this is the end. This was the very last performance for this One Acts season. I'm just sad it's ending, it feels too soon. I'll get over this eventually, yet that doesn't mean I'm not sad about this.