What a performance
The hands of time turn to clap, as she exits the stage,
She left them full of feeling, she insighted them to rage
Her ‘performance’ was splendid, she danced then danced some more
Her words were harsh and flowing then they pranced right out the door
They were seething they were spiteful they were livid they were cruel
She sat feeling all their hatred laughing at them, such a fool
Although the violin is old now and has seen much better days,
Legato, martellato, right arm flowing as she plays
Like a songbird like a sparrow flying high and voice so sweet
They aren’t worthy they are scurvy and not fit to kiss her feet
Time for an encore, she re-enters, she curtseys, takes a bow
She went and saw, studied the book but so tired of it now
The rage the bitterness, the pointlessness of feeling so much hate
You went and bought the tickets it makes no sense now you were late
It’s the same story told every time you sneak a peak
The performers invoke feelings brings you down and makes you weak
You repeat the same performance and your script always the same
Did you get what you were after and are you really glad you came?
The echos through the hall resonate an eerie tune
The whole world is out there turning as you sit here in this room
The doors are open wide now for everyone to take their leave
Do you really hate these people or were you just led just to believe?
The audience were captive and also had their parts to play
Take your slings, your bows, your arrows and just put them all away
© written by SL (www.pergiftco.com)
