Your Poetry Dot Com - As I Hear that Curtain Closing

Array ( [sid] => 155524 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => As I Hear that Curtain Closing [time] => 2009-12-01 09:43:18 [hometext] => I wrote this after I had gotten over my first real break up. Comments are very appreciated. [bodytext] => It’s hard to imagine that everything in my world as I know it
Everything I’m thinking and feeling will eventually just be part of the story
That these scenes of youthful indiscretion will age into faded pictures
on some dog ear’d page of a photo album tucked away in the cellar
That the na๏ve, boyish smile creeping across that young mans face throughout them isn’t mine.
Furthermore, it isn’t even his
It belongs to the moment, just as all good things do.

So the ticking clock beside me sets the rhythm of change
as days fade into weeks and then months.
Now all the actors have moved on
to different scenes in different plays
And as I hear that curtain closing
I can’t help but smirk and bow to the crowd
Whether there are roses at my feet or not...
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 187 [topic] => 44 [informant] => Flyinglow [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Nostalgic ) Your Poetry Dot Com - As I Hear that Curtain Closing

As I Hear that Curtain Closing
Date: Tuesday, 1st December 2009 @ 09:43:18 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Flyinglow

It’s hard to imagine that everything in my world as I know it
Everything I’m thinking and feeling will eventually just be part of the story
That these scenes of youthful indiscretion will age into faded pictures
on some dog ear’d page of a photo album tucked away in the cellar
That the na๏ve, boyish smile creeping across that young mans face throughout them isn’t mine.
Furthermore, it isn’t even his
It belongs to the moment, just as all good things do.

So the ticking clock beside me sets the rhythm of change
as days fade into weeks and then months.
Now all the actors have moved on
to different scenes in different plays
And as I hear that curtain closing
I can’t help but smirk and bow to the crowd
Whether there are roses at my feet or not...

This poem is Copyright ยฉ Flyinglow

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