The stage lights dim across the barren stage
Itchy red seats like blood cells
Spilling out before me
I stand fading with my pulse

My face is smiling
The porcelain mask of a thespian
Though no longer dancing as a jester
I drop it to the floor like a rose

As I turn to dust I wonder
Does anyone live with the question
As to who I really was
Underneath the costumes

Somewhere on a dim screen
There are words I wrote
Rotten bits buried where they cannot stink
Like a corpse hoping to be found

As the curtains close I wonder
Will anyone want to know
The side they never met
And wonder which side that it is

~Galwyn

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