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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1670616
by RatDog
Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1670616
With apologies to The Bard...
All the world's a stage
and all of us but flawed characters
in this play called Life.

None of us ask for birth, for life,
this twisted tale of love and strife.

In our early years we live for the day,
with little regret of what comes our way.

When older we worry what others may think,
some calm themselves with smoke, or strong drink.

When older still, approaching the fall,
we see they think little of us at all.

They're too busy starring in their own play.
concerned with what their reviewers might say.

So free again to live for the day
we allow our minds to wander and play.

Until our friend Death comes to take us away,
to make room for the next cast of players.
© Copyright 2010 RatDog (cyam_01 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1670616