The Day Of The Monkey Poem by ness tillson

The day of the monkey,
That's me,
The monkey that pretends to be free.
So happy to have his day,
To hear the cheers the laughs,
And you looking his way.

Laughing at the faces I make,
My clever tricks the cake I bake,
Clapping resounds in my ears,
And blows away my silent tears.

It's the monley's day,
No matter how many tricks I play,
A monkey I will stay.

I will always be locked up in my little cage,
I may shake the bars in sorrow or rage,
But I need the peanuts they throw in my face,
I need their laughing to avoid disgrace.

A little monkey with monkey hopes and monkey dreams,
Monkey desires and monkey schemes,
Monkey wishes his fears away,
Monkey longs for a better day.

Sometimes I take myself so seriously,
As if I'm very important really,
I dress up as if I'm real and proud,
And strut around my head in a cloud.
I pretend that I'm important for you and the world,
I drink up the laugher the applause of the girls,
Just before I realise my dilemma,
My cloths are too small my act is a failure.
All dirty and torn, I'm not near normality,
My mind is a mush I doubt of my sanity,
And I'm a million miles from you even seeing me.

So most of the time I sit here in half slumber,
Waiting for the sun to pass over,
I don't even see the day rolling by,
The stars that shine in the night sky,

I gaze at a point on the floor,
And empty my mind of anything more,
That would remind me of my state,
My position, my hope, the closed locked gate.
The feelings I felt,
The thoughts that I tried, to formulate.

I know you have left me alone in my cage,
I know I'm alone with my hopes and my rage.

Sometimes they pick my cage up and move it around,
Sit it the wall, put it on the ground,
Sometimes they take me out in the sun,
Or swing it around to have some fun.

But most of the time they forget that I'm here,
Here in the dark of a thousand years.
Alone waiting for you to come home,
Searching the horizon for your grave stone.

In fact there's nothing left at all,
In my monkey brain they put on the wall.

Does a monkey have a soul?
Am I for real or really just a hole.
Will I wake up and disappear?
Will I wake up and become thin air?

That will really be the day,
The day the monkey has got away.
My last trick, they didn't see nor even care,
The day the monkey dissolved in thin air.

No more shaking my cage in despair,
No more pretending that I am here,
No more strutting about, making a noise,
No more playing with my plastic toys.

I will disappear and no one will see,
Nor even remember a faint memory of me,
They'll put the empty cage on the wall,
And my ghost will eat the peanuts they let fall,
As they continue to wonder, laugh and clap,
At the empty cage, dead monkey on your lap.