The world is my stage

We all play a game called life, sometimes some of us can't get out.

 

Broken and masked
Is what comes forth each day
Reciting lines from my every day play
Taking bows up on that stage.

The roars from the crowd
Deafening my ears
Yet behind the mask, I stay in fear
Always hiding behind, the coming tears.

That stain the cheeks
Break through the heart
Yet a smile stays plastered
For I must play the part.

An actress am I
Each and every day
Playing a role
Up here on this stage.

And when the curtain closes
And the lights grow dim
I bow to the emptiness
And only then, do the tears win.

For you see... The world is my stage
And my life, a mere part
Acting for one and all
Yet in the end.. Leaving behind my heart.

Reviews

[Sheila Kline]

And with the world as your stage, you play the part well! The curtain closes, and joy flees, tears come and the curtain call holds captive a broken heart. What shall come with the next curtain call? Be it another chance, another love, another opportunity for a broken heart, or perhaps applause for that which shall endure?
The stage awaits all of us.....a tragedy, a comedy, a love story...what shall it be?

Nicely penned!

[Liz Alexander]

I love it.

[FlawedByDesign]

I've explored this idea of life as a stage and the actors hiding behind a mask in my PERSONA WARDROBE; I invite you to read it. As such, I enjoyed the subject matter in your piece. There's a lot an actor can invoke and in turn evoke in the audience, but in at the end of the day, it's nothing more than a front we put forth.

First line of the 3rd stanza seems to refer to the "fears" on the last line of the 2nd stanza, but the split in stanzas breaks up the flow in that case.

Well done.

[Kelley]

This sounds like something i might write. I enjoyed reading it even though it was a little depressing. I hope life is treating you better now.
Thanks for sharing.

Kelley

[Ang]

I love the imagery and the descriptions. I could picture the actress on stage as the crowd is cheering and she is standing there and the curtains coming down. My favorite line happens to be your title and also the the first line in your last stanza. "The world is my stage." Love it! Great poem! :)

[Dinesh Sairam]

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Don't mind, I just had to post this here so that someone will get to read. It's Shakespeare and your this poem deeply co-ordinates with the write.

The personification you portray, though imaginary, seems real-time. Simple rhymes and words.. Nice poem :) Keep writing.

[Sean M. Addams]

very deep and well expressed ... a very visual write ..awesome detail in this overall I thought you did a fantasic job on this ..your writing has defintley been missed :)