I spent my three hours
watching the silver screen
I spent those three hours
living my life, like a dream.
A version of reality
or say a slice of it.
A figment of my imagination
woven on that seventy mm; duly knit.
A life projected before me
played by someone other than me
and yet, the obvious sense of duality
is nicely hidden beneath the facade of similarity.
It’s less realistic sometime
you’ll say it’s romantic all the time
but facts aren’t worth a dime
if its fiction that sets forth my heart’s chime.
You accuse it of being a reflection
for being a diversion, distortion and deflection
but it’s a world of my creation in play
that’s the only world, reality can’t lead astray.
If world’s a stage and I, a player
why do we look for a soothsayer?
Isn’t it better to confront one’s life in a theater
where I know the whereabouts of its creator?