|Agonia.Net | Policy | Advertising||Contact | Participate|
|Poetry Personals Prose Screenplay Essay Press Article Communities Contest Special Literary Technique|
￭ The Angel in the Window
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
2009-08-26 | |
I am an actor. Everyday I perform on an improvised scene
Which is the scene on which my life
It may sound tragic to you?
I could laugh and say oh no, dear, youíre totally wrong
Itís my spectacle
and millions of insects come to see me
I have their souls in my hands
I can make them cry until they are left out with no voice
Helpless, just as I am
With the difference that I am their queen
Even though thatís just for a moment in their precious time.
Or I could say yes, youíre right. Itís tragic, itís being tragic everyday
I walk on pieces of unstable boards
And every step means a huge noise under my foot
that covers me. And makes my insects fly away.
Because they are scared of anything may go wrong.
Because they are fragile
Just as the pieces of unstable boards under my feet
And here I am, laying on an improvised scene.
Not knowing if itís wrong or right.
You say itís wrong, I say itís right
But then you say itís right, and I say itís wrong
And then I say canít you see?
Youíre just as blind as everyone else
The sound of your unstable board under your feet has made me run away
poor insect. That I am.
Poor abandoned king that you are.
|Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests.|