After The Show

After the show last night,
I memorised what you said to me.
‘All the world’s a stage.’
Well that’s where I don’t agree.
Why do we need to pretend?
Because if what you say is true
after the show ends,
I don’t mean anything to you.

And then it got me wondering,
If all you recite to me is real.
Or if anything in my life is how it looks,
If it simply reacts to how I feel.
If something glitters gold under a pointed light
If I’m just your foolish jester,
standing bemused, stage right.

Does my character that you face,
Live outside the realms of dark class.
Or is every line we say to each other
for the benefit of the mass?
Tell me it’s not true!
Tell me I belong to you!

I never wanted to take this part,
This play is a game I can’t bear.
I don’t care about life imitating art.
Please, tell me that I’m just a girl
you’re not some leading man.
And then I’ll enter your world,
and we can bow, hand in hand.