Up In Smoke

HOT STUFF—HURTING!

Southern By Design

Like a magician you perform, To your audience of one
Making people disappear, All in the name of fun

Acrid smoke and mirrors, Play a dangerous game
And for a clown as me, I live with only shame

Dimming of the lights, Curtains slowly spread
Is this all the final act? Will I soon by dead?

The music starts its tempo, Softly calls to me
“Come now lonely child, I can make you free.”

There are no expectations, Nothing you need fret.”
But I see through his charade, It leaves me with regret

At last this great performer, Reveals himself you see
Life is but a vapor and behind this mask was only me

©Up In Smoke by SBDMB (MM)

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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