The World Is A Thespian's Stage Poem by Christine K. Trease
The World Is A Thespian's Stage
Thespian don't stage your un-purposeful destiny
your love of agony echoes an unhappy fate
Cherish the tears you weep, oh fool of hearts,
only a wall drives the hour and minute upon you
Hands soiled with your subconscious masochism,
makes you guilty nonetheless
Happy endings will ne'er hold you captive,
You will die an intentional and pitiful
deficiency of the one you could have been.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 9:24:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
