The Play

Heat strikes
as I come to my senses.

You're good,
very good,
but I see through you,
through the charade.

In the end,
it's just a play.

You set the stage,
memorize the lines,
but, as they say,
the Devil's in the details.

That's where you missed,
where you fell short.

An empty setting,
it's just a stage,
no corroboration-
it's just you.

In the beginning,
you swept me up
with rehearsed lines,
all the glamor.

I removed the glasses,
now I see clearly,
and all I see is you
in your little play.

Do you really believe
the rehearsed lines?

Oh, you're good,
but the play is lacking.