Among the many other things I have been up to this semester, I have been a part of the spring drama team here at my college. Our performances began last week, but our dress rehearsals started even before that. I have never been one to be particularly fond of make-up, and I despise hairspray, so my experience as part of the play cast has been very interesting. While thinking about this (a.k.a. dreading the make-up and hair-fixing part of this shindig), I also began to think about how I have tried, for so long, to be someone I am not. This was on the same day that I wrote “The Murder” so you can probably see the similarities in the poem in this post.
In crowded halls and city streets,
In town and country fair,
If you look, you’ll surely find
A crowd of actors there.
With mended hair and made-up face,
In colors of every hue,
A million lives, a million lies
Are now set up to view.
Their words rehearsed, their moves direct,
As though followed from a script,
And secret lives are hid inside
As though stashed within a crypt.
But if you look, you’ll no doubt see
The hints, still there but faint.
Just watch for secret moments;
You’ll see the soul behind the paint.