All the world's my stage,
My theatre: the sky,
Director may say 'Leap',
And I reply, 'How high?'
People are my audience,
The sun and moon, my lights,
An every-day sort-of actor,
Without the mask and tights.
My props? They're all around me.
My voice projecting wide,
My script is laden in my mind,
A fixed script is denied.
Life is where I'm acting,
My life a theatre,
I'll climb until direction stops,
Until I reach top tier.
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Venturing off in a starlit sea. Scurrying around for lofty dreams. The signs of disaster is ignored. When looking out for a glistering shore. And through the trials we persevere.
I look down from the old bridge into the river below. The reflection of sun, sky and cloud looks back at me. Water meanders on its long and weary way to and fro.
My life was like a lift, It went up and it went down. Sometimes I got stuck halfway up But I could only frown. I didn't often have to call maintenance, Things sorted out themselves.
In the rolling hills of life. A gentle stream cuts its path. Earths deepest source. Rich in minerals. Invisible to the naked eye. Treasure lays undiscovered. Hidden in the waters bed.
#augustwriteaday #theatre. Each day. Starts. The same way;. Painting on. My second skin. Eyeliner, mascara. The mask I wear. To try and. Fit in. Then begins. The production. My curtain call.
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