A Diary Entry

Foolish hearts never cease to pull at the strings,
Choreographing each moment, subtle shift and turn.
Positioning graceful players,
Sweat beads embrace tears as you
furiously pull, twist, and intertwine.

On the stage simple figures map out
the Feelings in your head.
Simple gestures demand intricate work.
Child's play for the audience to witness,
They dare not watch the mourning artist.

Fumbling, stuttering, weeping, falling
cloaked to the world.
A diligent soul dares not to look up,
Fearful to find the audience empty.