He pours out the hushed tales,
tales of his life which would have been fairtytales otherwise,
had he not closed his eyes and smiled,
smiled at every word that his unconscious tongue let go.
He seemed to smile at the irony,
the irony of sad humor,
the humor at the slaves we all are to The Greater Good,
slaves...slaves of Time.
He seemed to smile,
at the subtle leaves of Change,
that have yellowing edges,
that want to be a part of autumn, and look belonged.
But he also smiled,
because he wasn't afraid.
Afraid to be read,
to float on the naked surface of truth,
cause this is how it was,
and there was no changing it.
But while I stood on the aisles,
and watched the curtains rise and fall,
to his mono act,
to his One Man show,
with every wave of confessions,
I looked at him harder,
for he still closed his eyes and smiled,
just that, gave me a reason enough,
to live, to strive, to run, to smile..
Cause this is how it was,
and there was no changing it..