Poem 114 – The Fallen Curtain

It is finished,
The curtain fallen,
The audience gone,
The stage silent,
The chorus absent;
Still life’s play goes on.

Is it silent if none watch it?
Does nothing stay if not seen?
Can it be empty without memory?
There must be a recorder,
Someone to write the history –
Today, that someone is me.


Dear readers,

I hope you are well, as I have now recovered. This pleases me. The more philosophical readers may be aware of the question of whether or not things happen if not observed – often trees falling in woods are invoked to make this point. My opinion is decidedly base, and not particularly sophisticated, but I found it a pleasant theme to discuss in poetry. Furthermore, I was recently in an opera, and this poem was composed moments after the final curtain fell. As such, it has a certain personal meaning too.

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic


One thought on “Poem 114 – The Fallen Curtain

  1. Pingback: Poem 268 – The Magic of the Theatre | The Hapless Neo-Romantic

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