Among The Ropes Of Lie Poem by Miroslava Odalovic

A silent actor standing
Naked between the acts
Dragged out of a pack of cards
To deliver the paper speech
To raise his glass and toast
To nothing behind the curtain's outreach
And a playwright anonymous
With the hand on his forehead
Wondering about the rules of writing
The part of the text secretly overheard
But never whispered to the main and side roles
And a beautiful child playing by his side
Completely lost in translation
His future killed by error corrections

I wonder how long an acrobat world can sway
Among the ropes of its own lie

©Miroslava Odalovic