I quaffed away my years,

Diluting them in dull haze beers.

I dribbled time down my chin,

I meandered without meaning across life's skin.

I squandered my solitude,

In the pointless, plotless perspective

Of the barflies.

I stopped drinking from other's plays.

I didn't rehearse for days.

The glass was always empty;

I was never full.

It is not enough to hold a skull,

As the passionate player's understudy,

Running frantically along the stage's edge.

Outside the spotlights,

Outlined in shadows.

Take up the protagonist's challenge.

And in this do not fail.

It is up to us,

To tell of our own tale.