i love it..its very deep
Taut wires draped casually over the sun
are my saving grace, enough that I worry
about preserving my dignity and majesty;
all this over an abandoned stage where the killer
lurks in the backrooms with the ghost,
trying on silly outfits and harassing me.
And they might ask for encores having
revealing outfits, replacing the sun
with a dim moon, or throw me through a trapdoor
on an unwitting journey to the center of the Earth.
I dare not ask if it's worth my time -
one won't listen to me, and the other will pretend
not to.
They can ask me if I have talents, so I will
be their toy, a neglected piece of work
slovenly dancing and singing with a voice
too deep to be heard, much less admired.
And I totter, threatening to slip and fall
with every errant essay tossed in my direction,
bullet demands whistling past my ears.
I'm not the only actor, but duets
are a trait of a past long forgotten,
or come and leave too soon.
This my solo act, my first
and last and every single one in between.
If I feel angry enough, I slap myself,
because where is the heart when it is selfish?
Hi Silver! Mage here to review your work! So let's get to it, shall we? 
A little known fact about me is my love of any reference to theater, murderers, or ghosts. Actually, the last two are probably quite well known; I'm a writer and one of my characters runs a necromancy agency. Anyways, back to the actual review. The point I'm trying to make is that I'm hopelessly in love with your poem. The vocabulary is awesome, everything flows together nicely, and, like I said earlier, I'm a complete theater buff. Plus, your spelling and grammar is on point, which is always a bonus!
I'm not sure what you were trying to convey while writing this poem, but I interpret it to be about three friends, like you said in your description. It was the description that actually got me thinking this train of thought. There is the persona, who is trying to be noticed but fails to do so. Then there is the ghost, who doesn't do much. Finally, there is the killer, who insults the persona of the piece. The persona can't bring themselves to say anything and just try their best to survive while their friends slack off at trying to remain friends.
Following a more positive train of thought, it could also be three friends who love drama goofing around, and only one of them is actually trying to act but is incredibly nervous while doing so. The killer and ghost could be roles that the persona's two friends have.
Whether its meaning is the first, second, neither, or both of them, I will always love the poem. Keep up the spectacular work - which I doubt you'll have trouble with - and good luck on you writing endeavors! Have a great day/night!
Your poetry is beautifully written. As I read it, I felt as if I could clearly picture in my head the particular scenario. I could also sympathize and empathize with your persona. I could feel his/her emotions clearly as if they were my own. In that regard, you succeeded in writing poetry. The use of figures of speech was so elegant but not overused. It was just enough to get your point across.
I believe that poetry is never bound by a specific format, but it has to be distinguished by the division of lines. This was my only concern with your work. If I would reformat your piece into a paragraph, it would become a story in itself. That’s good, but since you intended for your work to be a poem, you have to highlight the division of lines. Sometimes, the way you break the lines are inconsistent that it can no longer stand on its own.
All in all, it was a brilliant poem. 
Keep writing. Hope this helped.
- LaPetitePrincess
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