I'm glaring at the broken mirror,

Because it's telling me things,

I don't want to hear,

Because their to hard to bear.

The whispers that come late at night,

Twining into my thought with fright,

And I can't run from them,

Their like an endless sin.

I would scream it from the banisters,

But there's no more room on stage.

I guess I just wasn't cut out,

For the parts in this play.

I didn't get to say my lines,

Before curtain call this night.

Maybe there will be someone to listen,

When the show comes around next time.

I was yelling out my sorrows,

Before I saw no one cared to listen.

I was much too young,

To know how to use my tongue.

Feeling for the stars,

The warmth that's in there arms,

I can't find that here,

Not in these years.

I can see the stage is closing,

This production finished for a time.

So maybe if I practice,

I can finally say my lines.

Maybe I will get to say,

What it is I believe.

Or maybe I'm lost in thought,

And this is all a dream.