I need an answer.
Things have happened and I need to act.
“Sit back?” they say, you have no right to act in this.
I’m afraid I cannot.
The die has being stage, the curtains drawn. Now is my time to act.
To win the audience or gain their boos.
Either way to sit in a corner and wriggle my fingers I cannot.
A fish waif, I am not.
A desperate lover, I am not.
The jealous maiden
What part shall you play? They ask impatiently., I am not.
To shun completely, to pretend all is well?
Both are extreme, but are part must be acted.
Beyond all, I look at you. For over
the curtain-calls, over the encores, over the dozen of roses that will be strewn on my feet.,
You will gaze at me, trying to decipher… trying to find answers but by then it will be too late…
This friendly game of chess will have become a war.