by Rachel Holden

Created on: June 19, 2010

The Brave Face.

Even when there is a part of us that falters inside,

That moment when our eyes look around us open wide.

Our brain works fast, summoning the cast,

The show will soon begin.

For even the most amateur of performers,

Can trick everyone on the outside.

Oh the gift we have been given to be such ornate and precise liars.

The cogs wheel around and the stage curtains open,

Act one scene one is about to begin.

Those first few lines although a little unsteady come out with meaningful purpose,

The second lines grow stronger as the cast finds their feet.

The play on others understandings is now well under way,

A deep breath inhaled and tears pushed to the wings but at what internal price shall we now pay?

This is what we do us ‘strong’ human beings,

We push all sign of weakness away.

We hide it in the wings, the dressing rooms out back,

And it is only our audience who believe this playful yet sometimes uncertain guise.

For we the directors and producers know how this play shall end,

One happy fulfilled audience although tricked without their knowing.

But what for us? The ones of us who perform every day, sometimes with only a moment’s notice,

The price will be far bigger than any monetary fortune, any big lottery win.

There will come a time when the actors can no longer perform,

The directors can no longer direct and the producers no longer produce.

These feigned plays, these lies we project out to our audiences who are drawn in to our productions,

One day will start to falter.

The curtains will not open, the cogs will not turn, and there will be no cast to summon,

For when this day comes it must be truth and only truth which passes through our lips.

This deceit these lies are no damage to our audiences,

Only damage laden unto ourselves and only us to blame.

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