- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Spellbound
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a fly
drawn in by aroma
only to be a trap
snared in the jaws
lungs no longer
expand
filling with life
knowing only
the squeeze of death
no longer knowing
what is fake or real
just a poor actor
upon a stage
with no choices to make
yearning direction
expecting a script
the scenes and dialogue
no longer matter
the director is unseen
the writer abandoned
this play
that has only one showing
this is opening night
and the encore performance
there will be no returns by popular demand
no cross country tours
when the curtains closes
and the lights go out
the audience will soon go
they may cry
or
they may laugh
some will learn
other just rejoice
but they all will go on
- COMMENTS
