Behind the Scenes
An empathetic person ponders how impossible it is to truly know what is going on inside of other people's souls.
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The door had been left just slightly ajar
To the backstage section of the theater,
But before I could travel very far,
I was asked to leave by a stern greeter.
No one’s allowed to see behind the scenes;
It would ruin the magic of the show.
You have to be content with other means
Of finding out what you would like to know.
The door was then promptly shut in my face;
No backstage tour was to me extended.
Still I hoped I would somewhere find a trace
Of truth beyond that which was pretended.
Her eyes, so piercingly stunning and blue,
Glistening with spiritual wanderlust.
His face, colored in an innocent hue,
Mad that into adulthood he was thrust.
No one’s allowed to see behind the scenes;
It would ruin the magic of the show.
You have to be content with other means
Of finding out what you would like to know.
If only there was something I could say,
Some enticing bribe my heart could offer.
But the greeter said it don’t work that way;
No gold of mine’s welcome in their coffer.
Does she feel lost on this hostile Earth?
Would one word of love suffice as a map?
Does he feel lonely and drained of all mirth?
Would one kind gesture save him from gloom’s trap?
No one’s allowed to see behind the scenes;
It would ruin the magic of the show.
You have to be content with other means
Of finding out what you would like to know.
© Sam Hendrian 2023
EN-EU
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