- May 28, 2004
- 787
- 7
Alone,
center stage.
Silence.
No sound.
Deafening.
Rely on movement and
cry drawn-on tears,
Speech through gestures
and I silently hold back the years.
I
Pantomime.
Spotlight and my
face is instantly painted white.
I stand or sit idly by and let everyday
things wash over me.
No response verbally,
only movements and through arms
in the shape of a hyperbola.
I arch and move wildly, then smoothly.
No understanding
and no care.
A white-face, black-rimmed eyes
and nothing more.
I
Pantomime.
A life spent
with no expression from my sea,
silent picture in a portrait of me.
There seems to be no end
to my role and I feel like I’m out of time.
I can't even speak, but I can only
Pantomime.
~Copyright 2004
"Sweetdaddy Jazz" Publishing
~*PropheticNsyght
center stage.
Silence.
No sound.
Deafening.
Rely on movement and
cry drawn-on tears,
Speech through gestures
and I silently hold back the years.
I
Pantomime.
Spotlight and my
face is instantly painted white.
I stand or sit idly by and let everyday
things wash over me.
No response verbally,
only movements and through arms
in the shape of a hyperbola.
I arch and move wildly, then smoothly.
No understanding
and no care.
A white-face, black-rimmed eyes
and nothing more.
I
Pantomime.
A life spent
with no expression from my sea,
silent picture in a portrait of me.
There seems to be no end
to my role and I feel like I’m out of time.
I can't even speak, but I can only
Pantomime.
~Copyright 2004
"Sweetdaddy Jazz" Publishing
~*PropheticNsyght