Stage clothes
appear as if they are all
telling a profound decoration
sewn into silk
long gowns with jewels
suggesting happiness
all erasing the simple pleasures
in a wash for the family
a career woman’s daily journey
to work, work she will never own
And maybe he, classified simple
a carpenter in dress
watches as women surround a man
women perfumed to elegantly pleasure
the senses of alluring desire
watches, quietly dying
as a man who could have been him
the same high cheek bones
the same sway of maleness
he goes back to check his pay packet
and it’s already emptied by a wife
spending too much and loving too little
Is it that we do nothing
but draw a picture of comparison
to an ideal life
perhaps a plan
a grand stage of fraudulent lies
given to all of us, whether or not
we have our 15 minutes of fame
like Andy Warhol said
then we sleep
sleep into what was meant as heaven for some
and hell for another
but stitching
we, like fabric as one
as the stage is set and the actors prepare
for their final acts
Photo Credits
Photo from Pixabay – creative commons
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