Topic: Whelve (verb form) - meaning to bury, conceal, or hide something beneath something else
Poem Name: The World is a Theatre
Word Count: 217
Falling out of love is hard.
Spiralling and tumbling out of the clouds,
And crashing to the ground,
Sitting in a crater.
Getting up, and being scarred.
Climbing out and seeing the crowds,
All hope to know what came around,
And are curious of what will come later.
Pushing through the throng,
Keeping that head up,
Walking for what feels so long,
Getting away from the watching pileup.
Smooth strut turns into a stagger.
Once away from prying eyes, the head starts to drop.
Turn the corner, head back home,
The only place to be one's self.
Finally, not a stared dagger,
Solitude, a place to let the spinning stop.
Work through the pain, no need to roam.
Peace and quiet to organize the frantic thoughts on a shelf.
Dawn in breaking,
Time to go.
Time to hide what one is thinking.
Don't let the emotions show.
Walking out with a big smile,
A simple mask.
Everyone has got them, too.
The world is a theatre.
Swallowing the tears and bile,
No one dares to ask.
All too focused on what makes them blue,
Perhaps they'll open up later.
But until that time, everyone shall whelve.
Bury their thoughts and emotions.
In no one's business will anyone delve.
For they are all focused on their own commotions.
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