The Theater House Poem by Benjamin Chiu Uy

The Theater House

At nights you satin your own dissension,
to your bodies failings,

Small recriminations at the weakened cartilages,
and sabotaging cells,
that says your work is done,

It calls your body to rest, had seen skirmishes in hot weathers,
tempests from the battles of life,
enough to stop the masquerading as a hero,

And in closings
and the enclosing doors

snow it wants the silent limbs of the out of the stars,
It's melting process,

to dissuade feelings of cough, outwards disappearance,
of your theater house.