Retired
I have worn too long
This mantle of
Waiting
Weighted and pale
Enveloping into invisibleness.
I never learned who I really was.
I am done with
Disco ball tears
And chandeliers
And hung up my
Suit of lights.
Lock it away in a museum
For the gawkers to
Contemplate
I don’t want it anymore.
I am old,
I want to rest.
I can’t remember why
I started this.
All I sacrificed –
Never enough.
Now my children
On that altar burn
And what was it for?
What was it for?
The final curtain call
The lights go out.
Singer sits in his own silence.
No one remembers
I was here.