Friday, January 4, 2008

The Play

I peep with fear through the window
To see the comedy of life
Lest I be a clown myself
I laugh the most untoward laugh
At myself in the mirror; I think
I don’t have time to think
I laugh at the tragedy
An ever going one, this life
Ah, we mere spectators
Of the play where we are the cast
Cast in a pitied cast
To play not by our will
To laugh, to weep, to cry, to die
The way we are wanted, to be
Or not to be; I think

Why do I think?

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