Your Big Break,
finally you’re the star.
On opening night everyone you know shows up,
just to see you. All dressed up,
you await the start.
Everyone approaches their seats and waits silently.
The previews begin to play.
Your parents meet at that dirty bar
years ago, your mother starts to fall
for your father,
and after effortless tries they await your arrival.
It’s show time.
The lights dim so it’s easier to see.
You were an adorable child.
Spending those early years
playing with your mom,
starting school in those perfect
white tennis shoes,
seeing memories that you’ve always cherished
and ones you’d love to forget.
Every laugh from those jokes grandpa told you,
every tear shed because of those boys,
you know those ones from high school,
even those unplanned sleepovers you had
because you drank a little to much
to go home to your parents.
You really see everything,
whether you want to or not.
College is next,
your favorite scenes
as you watch and crunch your popcorn,
thinking to yourself,
As the film progresses,
the sound track changes
with every problem that arises.
It speeds up when that boy in the 8th
grade kisses you,
it gets dark and gloomy through
the fire scenes,
the toughest to watch.
Life isn’t perfect.
There are perfect parts,
but they aren’t always as good as the bad.
Show the scenes that almost got cut.
Make the audience uncomfortable;
that’s what life does to us.
It’s just a chain of hard uncomfortable moments,
with some stress-free ones in-between.
Once the credits start to roll,
the bulbs burn brighter
so bright that it’s all you can see.
What happens next?
I’m not sure,
but I’ll keep listening to my director,
I’m not ready to stop filming,
fame can wait.