All the world's a stage but,
is the starvation just theatrics?
Are the car wrecks part of it too?
Is the hardship real or an act?
We're all actors playing a part but,
when you went to hospital,
and the nurses said you had no pulse,
which part were you playing?
What is truth in fact I ask?
Where are the staged performers?
Where are my lines to rehearse when
I whisper, 'I am exhausted'.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood.
One road will lead you believe that
all the world's is a stage.
The other road is harder to negotiate.
We wonder lonely as a cloud if
we negotiate the ugliness and all
of it's dead ends and weirdness
and we have no one to love!
The world never sleeps with 24/7 demands. It's not sustainable and people are left behind in life.
Insightful piece of poetry set aside for a sober reflection. Thanks for sharing and do remain enriched....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Brilliant write.Starvation and hard ships real, but not permanent.