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Nov 2018
We are all racing birds;
we win just to be caged.
I don't know if you've heard,
but all the world's a stage.

I tread the rigid boards
and bend myself instead.
Another curtain call;
another ego fed.

The limelight comes and fades;
the sweat falls from my brow
now everybody cheers,
another perfect show.

You will never make it,
you know that this is true.
The flowers on this stage
will die along with you.
Written by
Dante Algheri  M/US
(M/US)   
203
 
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