No Longer Taken in by the Shadow PuppetI 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
Read 128 times
Written on 2019-05-12 at 22:21
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