The Color Black Poem by chris schwartz

For those who understand,
They know
The curtains can't be drawn
On the scenes
Of the Evil.
The Dark, Simmering plot
Keeps its Embers fueled
It stages no Mercy
For those who survive and endure.

A well written play
Ignites the emotions of those
Who know no Fury..
For some,
They just can't wait
Until the stage appears empty
They shuffle down the isles
And can walk away
From all that they witnessed.
From the heart of the actress,
Hidden backstage,
Hoping none will notice,
Stares a grown soul,
Still remembering
The child that was taken away.
Her heart beats rapidly,
Like it did, back then,
The close of a curtain,
Doesn't make it stop
Just because all others
Have left the building.
She is now alone
With the star
Of the show,
Once again,
Still repeating his lines
To her, inside her head.
Even when she sleeps.
When she closes her eyes
The play is not over.
It is just beginning again.