Out this mind, I see
Flown from ground, the flames rebel.
And shadows cry, and break apart.
But backdrops fallen, remain aground.
Stroke of line, when first he draws
Elders pray the life to be
An actor, in his long-life act,
Not backdrops that watch it done.
Life blossoms, dreams come
"To be different is what life beckons"
Says to father, his aspiring son.
"To burn down, is what a backdrop deserves."
Life becomes still, no acts to do
Yet he sees others act at front.
Loves the stagnity, laughs to see them work.
Backdrop is, what he has become.
Ages go, finds inside a crying shadow.
Grief breaks him apart.
Risen of ground, the flames
Burn him down, like a backdrop deserves.
YOU ARE READING
Backdrops
PoetryLife is an stage. We, are everything else. Some choose to play roles, some make them. And are ones who become backdrops, staying where they are and eventually, fading away, burning down.
