To be alive

A thousand eager faces hold the stage
in rapt attention. Slowly every heart
unfurls within this sacred arc. We start
by watching from afar, thinking our sage
or cynical remove can keep the rage
of fractured love at bay. But in the art
of light and gesture, we are pulled apart
by words astounding from the poet’s page.
The veil of separation has been torn
with rude abandon, making every breast
complicit in the tragedy before
us. For we share their breath, yet do not warn
them of their fate. Seeing our lives expressed
we ache to be alive, and cry for more.

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About Andrew Kreider

I'm a poet and musician,transplanted from London, England to beautiful northern Indiana. By day I am a stay-at-home dad with our three kids while my amazingly talented spouse conquers medical school one long shift at a time. At night, I'm a performer and trouble-maker. I love my life.

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