The Performance

The curtain rises,
Swishing its many disguises,
Every face ever worn
Ever since you were born.

When audience's show
They sit down, stand up and go,
In and out of your life
Like your mother and wife.

The music is strange
Like your costume change,
One minute a rhapsody,
The next a parody.

I wish I could pretend
The dream could never end
But the boards you tread
Are only in my head.

A little more make-up perhaps
To hide the missed lines and gaps,
Such swagger and finesse
In your childhood sequined dress.

To whom are you playing?
The crowds that are beying?
Ignore them, my dear,
Dying is only a fear.

Critics can be cruel
To such a pretentious fool,
I can't always be my best
When sincere and undressed.

They'll never know
That you've fallen or how low,
Just be what you want to be
Because I know you are me.

The curtains shut,
The audience tut tut...
"Overacting!" they shout
As we try to get out,

But hey! I'll dream some more,
Life or death for the encore?
Artists don't have to conform,
But please heart......just perform.

© RJVHorton 2015