I find myself
traveling
to the same dogeared-pages,
that I've traveled
a hundred times before.
Trying to recreate situations,
to fulfill the imagination
of happiness.
The immense distances,
can't be leapt
can't be bounded over
in the daydreams of Forever.
Fate plays puppeteer
as I dangle across that stage,
in the theatre of the absurd.
It's time for the fourth act,
and I'm torn.
(The show must go on!)
So here I am,
in all of my battered glory,
thinking that I should have read the script,
so I know if this is a romance
or a tragedy.
It's got me wondering what kind of man I am;
Other, Next, or Last.
And if the curtains fall,
again ...
leave enough of me,
please,
for the finale.