Role Play Of The World

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I think you can all unserstand what this is about...:)


Ladies and gentleman, I welcome you to the show,
You are about to witness the greatest act you'll ever know.

Don't be startled, nor be hesitant to cry,
For emotions of the theatre are anything but shy.


Acting like mine, comes with years of training,
To fool you all with your own trust that I proceed to be gaining.

So take your seats, and observe with your own eyes,
The honesty that can follow up on far too many lies.

This role is difficult, and not too many would dare to play it,
Undeniably unbelievable and anything but transparent.

So watch on edge, the actors you could or would have been,
For tonight ladies and gentleman, I am playing the role of me.
Last edited by SakuraFallsSweetly♥ on Tue Apr 19, 2011 2:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The only true failure, is when you give up. ♥




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Up to the last line, this piece was really good. The material you used and the imagery really caught me and didn't let me go. But then I hit the last line. And instead of being interested I was a little upset that i read it. =\. The ending didn't flow as well as the other lines, and it didn't rhyme like the others either. In some pieces of writing, that kind of thing is ok. But it didn't work for this piece. Maybe work on it a little. Overall good, ending just didn't blend.
TylynTyrannosaurus<3 (tydecker777)




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I agree with ty, I loved the poem overall and it was really easy to relate to, but the ending didn't blend. I think it's because of the "I am playing the role of me" part. You could put a line break after gentleman (which should be gentlemen)so that the "been" and "gentlemen" will end the two lines in rhyme, and then rewrite the "I am playing the role of me" to flow better. Am I making any sense? Over all I thought it was well written, and an interesting take on something that 90% of the world can relate to. good job : )
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.
David Herbert Lawrence



Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights