The performance

The curtains rise up

You start your act

Your lines delivered

With confidence, you enchant

The audience is wrapped up,

Captivated, entranced

But, wait! Have you stopped to ask

Who is writing the script?

Who is directing the cast?

And how comes you are

Part of an act

In which you’ve had

No say, no choice, no freedom

To write?

And whose performance is it?

You ask

And why must you stand up,

Pretend, act?

Whose life are you living?

The one you want

Or are you really just following

The words, the scenes, the acts

Neatly typed up

Convenient, conventional, acceptable, mainstream, banal

Where are your dreams, ambitions,

Hopes, intuition?

All gone, hidden, forgotten, buried, suppressed, discarded, incognito?

Why the performance, the acting?

Are you scared, frightened?

Of what you’ll find

If you step out, walk away from the limelight?

Your soul, your mind, your heart

What’s hiding inside them?

Dig deep, find out, discover

Reveal your own script

Write your own lines

Own your act

Cause life is not a rehearsal

And you have no understudy

Get off that stage

Find your own show

Don’t let the curtains fall

On You

Be bold

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