The Life Theatre
Poem
It breaks my heart
to see you in pain,
unhappy, tired, inanimate
like a puppet on strings
held by this marvellous creature
of sorrow.
The scissors are lying on the floor.
Too far to reach,
too near to give up hope
that one day
you will break free.
The window brings in
the morning light
while a tear rolls down
the wooden cheek.
There is an unpleasant feeling
in my stomach
and a freezing thought
in my mind.
The theatre of life
is your stage
but you can only act
not participate,
my sad and lonely
friend.
The puppeteer plays with you.
He teases your good soul
and makes you dance
around the metal shine
of the knife
that could cut you
away from the slavery.
Suddenly there is silence
followed by brutal screams
while the wood becomes red
and the main curtain drops.
Finally you are free
from life.
more by URSULA RABAR BABIC
photograph by Verne Ho
