The curtain never falls
And the show carries on
The stage is all red
With blood stains and the dead.
Onlookers stare in indifference
In the half-empty theatre.
They think it’s all merely a show
Seated in comfort arranged in rows.
The puppets cry and weep
Unable to break free of the strings.
They are all killed in the end.
No one is spared, not even a dear friend.
The silent cries fade away in the wind.
As the little girl sits in the dust
Her hand grips a disfigured doll.
She wonders,” must the show still go on.?”