REHEARSAL

 

                        

 

        The theatre is empty, dark. 

        The stage is bare. 

                My heart is all I hear. 

                My temples ache.

        I'm caught within 

                a piercing spot light's glare,

                that follows every step and turn I take.

        I'm tired, pissed. 

                What contract did I sign?

                Where's my director? 

                        Feet up in some seat?

                Why am I here? 

                Who said this script is mine?

        I long to stop, 

                yet once more repeat:

                         "See HOW you ARE?" 

                         I scream, "Just go way!"

                         I whine "Why me? Poor me!" 

                                and then I start:

                         "It's fine. It's fine. 

                         It really is okay."

        I even hear me 

                speak the other's part. 

        A nightmare gives you 

                gifts that you can take,

        But fret-filled day-mares 

                never takes a break.