a promotion, a salary increase, a free ride

and there comes a dance, a whistle, a glow.

a demotion, a slap, a firing

and the opposite happens, wilt away.

got a headache? take some painkillers,

got a migraine? take something stronger

and a full stomach makes a happy person,

a scripted play till the actor wants out

when it is another rehearsal, another line,

to quote someone who has already said it all before.

an awakening, a slumber

one watches the other

till the night slips in, the midnight strikes

then the applause, the mirage shatters

of many lives lived, many lines repeated, many walks

in the same trail – absent the awareness

of a battery worn out from too much usage.

there is no replacement for this fuel,

none at all,

it is the identity made when actors no longer do,

they’ve become the actor

with an inability to tear off that mask.

stuck on the face,

stuck in the flesh,

stuck in the soul.

it is quite perplexing really,

a battery that does not light up

when actors change roles.