To Jane


I look to you,
Then to myself,
Then to my life,

Past wretched falure upon failure,
Bewitched by hollow hopes.

My love never was,
It never should have been

But your light still shines,
Through the stage door: ajar

The program presents quiet loyalty,
The curtain conceals thankful passion,
The stage wails ta nom

But the lone actor on the stage:
He resembles a mime,
A mime without purpose,
A mime with a voice,
A mime who would give anything,
To entertain you,
From behind the curtain.



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