The performance
Whose life are you living?
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
