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Ta-da

All Acts Come to an End

By Ashley WrigleyPublished about a year ago • 1 min read
Ta-da
Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash

I am an act, one for your amusement.

I jester and you applaud.

The jokes are not the words but my presence.

You laugh and I carry on

as if with every sharp roll of the eye I am not being sawed.

Still, I show

still, I hope

still, I try and pull the silk tied rope that just seems to never end.

Another day I arrive, but with every day a part of me vanishes.

Let's just examine this.

You’ve taken my legs.

You’ve taken my soul.

My tongue is near gone, and once the hands go that will be my last toll.

My hands are my craft.

Power flows through them.

Render me powerless.

Spin me on the wheel, blindfold yourselves, and target my wrists.

What will the act be when I fully disappear?

No box with a secret compartment.

No secrets, I fear.

You cannot push me back together,

sew what has been dismembered.

The magic is strong but only when the audience stays tethered.

performance poetryMental Health

About the Creator

Ashley Wrigley

The truth can be covered by words of fiction and rhyme. However, if you dig deep enough to the core you might be amazed what truths you will find inside.

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    Written by Ashley Wrigley