T.B.A.

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The play is ended
The final lines are read
Closeness surrendered
The love is dead.

The curtain closes
Silence begins
Confused emotions
Acting out things.

The stage remains shapeless
The scenery unclear
Only the sound is familiar
The sound of my tears

The plays have started and ended before
Though never before has it been quite so sore
This time the playwright knows not what to do
This time his heart is broken in two.

What's the word? Writers block
Time to stand still, time to take stock
Time to plan out the future, the future as such,
hard to do when it hurts so much.

Maybe its time to call it a day
Pack up the pencils- put them away.

Make up a sign
"No longer hired -
This writer is finished
This writers retired"

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