Verisimilitude Poem by Amera Andersen

When Shakespeare said: “The world is but a stage”
he must have known the stage was but my world.
For in the theater I can disengage
and let my inhibitions be unfurled.

I cast myself upon the actor’s scene
and live the story as it is portrayed.
I put behind me all that is routine
and picture life as it is being played.

There is a hidden danger in this bliss,
for I have let the stage consume my life.
I trust in those who rapture me in kiss
and as I play my roll they twist the knife.

The moral of this verse is plain to see,
there is no theater in reality.