The world is not your friend

It watches, a silent stage

The curtain rises on your fateful day,

No claps, no sighs, no words of praise

The world gives nothing but your days.

***

You trip, you fall, you scrape your knee,

It watches, whispers but does not weep.

For doors stay closed unless you turn

Those gold brass handles you always yearn.

***

No expectations of joy or loss,

No lines, no songs nor timely prompts

You write your scenes and cast your play

The world has no part and nothing left to say.

***

Neither friend and neither foe but

A wooden floor you scratch with your toe.

Leave your mark and wonder how

The world drops its curtains as you take your bow.