Exit Stage Center

There's been a tragedy,
"THE MAN" can no longer see,
his eyes are fine but nothing registers,
flashing colours, faded faces, each fighting for flawless focus.

There's been a catastrophe,
"THE ONE" can no longer hear,
his ears are fine but nothing comes clear,
sounds simply saturate into unseductive secluded nothingness.

There's been an accident,
"THE HERO" can no longer think,
his brain is fine but is on automatic,
never wishing, wanting, the woes and worries of his past to come wandering.

There's been a true criminal offense,
"THE STAR" can no longer taste,
the uniqueness from her kiss has faded from his lips,
now he, finally finished with forever feinting forgiveness, begs for forgetfulness.

There's been a travesty,
"THE PROTAGONIST" can no longer feel,
at least he found the heart stolen from him,
picking up precious pieces practically perished from the one person he cherished.

So please clap and throw roses for him as he takes his final bow, exit stage center.



One of my oldest that I actually kept around. A good place to start.

I've been contemplating the universe.
How we are a slave to time, which is a measurement of light.
Therefore energy, which makes everything, is a slave to no one.

I would elaborate, but I know it makes sense in my brain, and that's enough for now.
Indeed.

Jack's Glorious Doppleganger