Sta.sh
Every town, every city, every place is like the backdrop
To each individual performance.
And the show goes on.
The choir is varied.
The strongest voices
Overpower the ones that cannot muster up their strength.
And yet the show must go on.
The melodies are so different.
The songs are either cacophonous and dIsSoNaNt
Or as beautiful as the clearest skies.
Yet the show goes on.
The actors rehearse their lines, and play their parts.
And the greatest are
The ones who are the most remembered.
While the weakest ones are left to crumble
Under the weight of those who are superior
Their memory erased from even the most minuscule margins of history.
And the show goes on.
Everything is expendable.
The actors, the choir, the backdrops, everything....
And yet.....
The show must go on.
It must go on
Until the last voice on stage
Is muffled by the dark velvety curtains
Of death itself.
Until then,
The show must go on.
Why must my life be so.....mildly miserable...? Wow, that was fail. 
