There is a stage that no one sees,
built from open arms and steady smiles
The audience, the world, they notice not
The Great Performer amongst them.
He hides his puppet behind curtains,
the curtains made of little things
like silence, shame, a flinch, a tug of sleeve
its screams drowned out by applause
When the mask slips and someone looks,
when light finds what the fabric hides,
the performer straightens, bows, and keeps the act;
a gentle smile—an apology
Sep 18, 2025
Sep 18, 2025 at 10:00 PM UTC
There is a stage that no one sees,
built from open arms and steady smiles
The audience, the world, they notice not
The Great Performer amongst them.
He hides his puppet behind curtains,
the curtains made of little things
like silence, shame, a flinch, a tug of sleeve
its screams drowned out by applause
When the mask slips and someone looks,
when light finds what the fabric hides,
the performer straightens, bows, and keeps the act;
a gentle smile—an apology
The world’s greatest actor doesn’t need a stage…
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