Sonnet: His Time Upon The Stage

One can live his allotted span of years
numb, laughing from behind bullet-proof glass,
hiding from himself the names of his fears--
strutting, fretting, unreliable, rash.
Ridiculous. I, too, can only shake
my head at the fool who is so afraid
of our one chance at life that his escape
is to stay drugged and think he's got it made.
I was, for too long, a member of that tribe,
playing a part in a play I made up--
unconscious, stupid--easy to describe--
the vanity of the weak, a sad pup.
Too brief? Life lasts long enough to play fool:
your audience sees through you--that's the rule.

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