Posted in life, Poems, thoughts

on drama class(1.19.17)

Anyone who knows me knows that I have severe stage fright or should I just be more accurate and say fright of speaking in a group of more than 3 people unless I know the people and am really close to them all. It ends up this poem is not just about drama class but is at the same time.Can anyone who does not already know for sure guess which play of Shakespeares we are doing? It really, like I said, isn’t the focus of this entire poem but is hidden within it. Let me know your guess and thoughts in the comments below and thank you for reading.

 

Tension

all around

p u l l s ,

the prefear of

what is to be feared,

upon that darkened stage struts,

tall and lank, the ghost of Shakespeare,

to fill me with fright

for the echo of my lines,

foul play

,so famous and poetic.

We all are merely phantoms

who skate across the frozen memories of our pasts,

haunted by those we haunt,

with things left unsaid,

unfinished business that we make everyone’s business.

We appear only to disappear.

We show only to fade,

never to speak till begged,

until time,

until one

feels the pull,

tension taught.

I exit stage left.

-Eva M.M.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”

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Author:

I am a young and enthusiastic writer, fresh out of highschool and into college at IUSB. I babysit and work and live life to it's fullest. I write. I read. I do yoga. And plan to become. Yoga intructers as well. I grew up on a farm and can't,t wait to move back to the country in my tiny house I have already planned out. Sometimes I'm a little melodramatic but rarely. I'm a spiritual healer, a hopeless romantic, a book worm, and very nostalgic. Thanks for stopping by.

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