Worship- a play with perspectives

Discussion in 'Poetry' started by Spineless, May 20, 2004.

  1. Spineless

    Spineless Member

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    Within the crowd,
    pushing through, I must be heard.
    My idol will be on stage soon...
    recognition is what I'd like.

    Perched inside the dressing room,
    I don't recognise myself.
    I'll be stepping on stage soon...
    recognised by everyone.

    Look, here he comes now!
    Bow down, crowd erupts, I feel unknown.
    Need to express my gratitude towards your music...
    for having the ability to save my life.

    The show concludes, once again I am
    back inside my cold, lonely dressing room.
    Sweat, worn throat.
    Blood drips down across my arm in a form of self afflicted harm.
    Someones at the door.....must they have more?

    At the door I thump my fist...

    on the floor I hold my wrist...

    inches away my idol stands...

    not another pathectic, obsessive fan...

    In the crowd I scream out loud!
    Yet differently from everybody else.
    I'm always close to my real icon...
    because Im always able to worship myself.
  2. Kabbalist

    Kabbalist Member

    Likes Received:
    Wow, I love this poem! When I read it, I ask myself if it's nice to be famous or not? I think I'm a unknown person in the huge crowd...

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