7d • Community Share
Unscripted (rough draft)
Unscripted
Stage directions claimed you’d enter stage left—
early on, before the villain drew breath.
Slated for love before tension took hold,
the script went astray, the story grew cold.
Understudies waited, scenes lost their glow.
You were late, but the curtains still rose.
Each act I stumbled, lines went astray,
partners preferred ad-lib over scripted play.
They carved out the softness,
chose peril instead,
leaving love on the floor
and chaos in my head.
I feared the reviews—Life on Display,
a tragic farce with nothing to say.
Critics leaned forward, pity in view;
the spotlight too harsh, the cast too few.
I wasn’t fit to act, or so it seemed—
my role a mirage, the dream I’d dreamed.
Then the lights dimmed; silence began.
I braced for another understudy again—
but he was gone, yanked from the stage.
The audience waited, almost afraid.
And there you were—
center stage, unsure.
Clumsy. Off cue.
But so painfully real.
You looked at me and the world went still—
a pause between heartbeats,
truth no script could conceal.
You entered, and suddenly
the story made sense—
not as fiction,
but as proof
that something real
had come at last.
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Unscripted (rough draft)
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