West Wing Romance

 
Shakespeare once said: All the worlds a
Stage, I’m riding waves but none of them
Denote musical notes and camera flashes,
Beaten around, angry and rash, there are

 
No silken curtains, only the curtains of the
Mast-severed in half- the gaping mess
Flapping in the current, hands burnt at the
Helm, costumes made from design and ship

 
Made from fabric, other worldly magic, where
Are your wise words now? No encore. No final
Bow. Only torn limbed sailors and feeding babes,
Fame the only cure to hunger, their names cast

 

To the skies and fall as meteors, metaphors,
We are dinosaurs, all brittle and bone, no home,
No hold on reality, lost at sea dancing with the
Whales and mammoths all look the same under
The stage light projection.

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