The act has closed,
and the curtain been called,
so ignore the applause
as your heart lays; stalled.

The director yelled "cut,"
as you felt the crowd cheer,
it ripped through your soul
and "cut" you with a jeer.

The mask that you wear
and the lines that you spew,
show nothing of acting,
just a mock version of you.

So catch the bouquet
as I hurl it at you,
enjoy your new penthouse,
that empty room with a view.

by Veronica A. Shoffstall*  

After awhile you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn't mean possession
and company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises and you begin to accept
your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of an adult not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build your roads today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have ways of falling down in mid-flight.
After awhile you learn that even sunshine
burns if you get too much so you plant your
own garden and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn...