the world as a stage
fiction
edward w pritchard
The world as a stage and I stumble about without a script.
My part long since over I can't find a way through the curtains.
Once at 10AM I played the young gentleman to be,
Standing center stage for a moment I put my arm around the waist of a proper bride.
Then fashions changed, tastes came and went and time crept forward.
Now it's 10PM and I watch myself still on stage repeating my 10AM gentleman to be lines
Thousands of small dramas occur simultaneously about me by other players as the audience takes five
I walk about upstage, upstage with the other finished actors,
circling, circling , waiting for my next cue.
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