by Harold Larson

Created on: April 10, 2009

The Actor

So many names, so many faces

But when have I truly been me?

Too long have I played the actor

Discarding the masks after each performance

Only to put on another when the curtain draws open again.

Do I even know who I am?

I've pretended for so long that

I forget who this person is

Staring back at me in the mirror.

Are we to be judged by our past acts

Even when they are not our own?

Or are we blank slates, free to write

Our own? To write our part in this play?

So when the curtain calls, when it opens once again;

I'll no long be on stage. No more masks, no more lies.

No more pretending to be something I'm not

Is it finally time for me to sit in the crowd?

Or will I leave; the door's been left wide open.

They say that the world is out there.

There's another life to live, a new beginning.

I leave this mask upon the floor, for someone else.

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