And he found himself at the mysterious Theater

Along this zigzag journey ups and downs it seems
On the way he kicks the stones
Probably gems and who knows?
He always carries a new hope in his holey pocket
And one day in his dream he found himself but it's too late
As the clock has stopped in front of the last mile post.
No make-ups and no more rehearsals hereafter
And your role is done my dear Wayfarer!
Do you hear the bell rings and the opaque curtain goes down?

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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