WITHOUT A SCRIPT
H. W. Bryce
Without a script, you are nothing.
You are at the mercies of the meanies.
They can see you coming a mile away.
Without a script you are a tennis ball,
Or a tiny bouncing ball in an arcade.
And you’ve lost the game before it begins.
You gotta have a script,
You gotta stage your life,
You need to write your playbook
Or your score will be nil-98-nill!
No matter what you will.
You gotta write your own scenes
Lest everything is chaos, or so it seems,
You gotta synchronize your moves
Syncopate your tunes, get in step
With your beat, turn up your own heat,
Exude your personality! That’s neat.
Oh yes! Without a script you will garner
A bouquet of boos, out of step with
The characters in your cast and they will harbor
Ill will and even hate because you don’t belong
Because you’re in the wrong script.
You’re in the wings, never on the stage,
You’ll have a part but never get to play it.
Don’t be shy, don’t be that shadow on the wall,
Step into the light, have a ball, go ahead and wage
Your inner war, then show your stuff,
Play out your inner script,
You’ve got it in you to do. So do.
Write your own script and strut your stuff
Out on the stage; pull the curtain cord,
Strike up the band, hit the lights
Show ’em who you are.
You’re a star.
Cause you wrote the script.
You gotta synchronize your moves
Syncopate your tunes, get in step
With your beat, turn up your own heat,
Exude your personality! That’s neat.
’Cause without a script, you’re nothing.
Author of Chasing a Butterfly
IMAGE: https://pixabay.com/en/dark-spotlight-stage-people-girl-2572874/
