Real Life

In the words of the Bard, “All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players.”

As children we were expected to play,

As a way to pass the time.

Our playing was make believe

From mudpies to princesses,

And then we’d come home

To play the piano strings

Still dreaming of the play that lives inside our brain.

As we got older, playing games

Went from sticks to others’ emotions.

Posers played at being adults

And players posed at being true lovers.

Playing strings turned from piano to bass

As the play in our mind became the darkest thus far.

Now as adults, we play drinking games

To numb the ache we get

From playing at a life that feels so fake.

We now know that everything before was just child’s play.

We play the role of imposter from nine to five

All week as we realized we just got played.

And as we watch our final play,

All our regrets are packed in one day.

Maybe playing was only meant to last a while,

Play was not meant to be our life entire.