No Longer Taken in by the Shadow Puppet

I see an image of myself inside the shadow box.
I'm to one side. I moan and wring my hands,
While, on the other side, a woman hasn't time
To think of me. My image says he longs for
Her. He wrings his hands because he's sure
That having her would make him happy.
I have seen this play before, and fallen for its
Tragic story. Teary-eyed when it concludes,
I tell myself, if she had turned, she would have
Changed my life. Today, my mind is wandering.
I see another image of myself. This one is in
A chair. He wants for nothing, really, and he
Knows that, should he win the woman, he would
Not be happy long. The seated man is doomed
To sadness, and the shadow man's desire isn't
What has made him sad. It's not the cause,
In other words. It's only an excuse.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2019-05-12 at 22:21

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The ultimate one-liner: "It's only an excuse" pretty much sums up everything. I like the way you've depicted the scene of two lovers growing distant and cold.