All the World’s a Stage

All the World’s a Stage

Shapes shift, lights, action and the company of life begin

To talk amongst themselves.

I mumble briefly, lips forming words painfully that don’t have sounds.

In my mind the sentences run along like a brook between the banks

But they cannot hear me.

I am telling fantastic stories, regaling them with naked emotion

That took a lifetime to concoct.

Theatre and poets, orators and optimists,

Stories are powerful, more powerful than data.

I am trying to change the world, shouting my story but they disregard.

All they hear is a distant murmur,

Persuasive stories, a parable for life.

I beseech them to hear me, I wave madly and scream

But the autobiography is refused.

Fanfare sounds, spotlight glare and all the world’s a stage

So talk amongst yourselves.

I stumble presently, eyes weeping convulsions that don’t have tears.

In my head my life chronicle tumbles like a beck over stones

But the merely players hear me not.

I am pouring out memoirs, entertaining them with raw pride

That took my lifetime to construct.

I might be old and my memoirs will soon be memories.

I could be begging in the gutter as my drama turns to dram.

Maybe I live locked inside my head so my apologue turns to apology.

I beg you, cast of thousands, a thousand times don’t cast me out.

I may not look like you, or talk like you, but don’t say you just hear nowt.

I am another colour or have more years that come and go

But I am trying to communicate but how, I do not know.

Before the play is over, lights dim and curtains fall

Speak to me, recognise me, turn and break the Fourth Wall.