The Show Must Go On?

I am familiar with the night
Its dark, silent stage
Then scenes open
In a floodlight of memory

I re-enact my life
the desires, the illusions
The cold prompter, Fear, in the wings,
I have the role for life

The Director?
An invisible, temperamental critic,
encouraging me to perform.

Oh! I’ve convinced myself

That I modify my part from time to time
A subtle gesture here
An improvisation there

The truth is I have perfected the role 

into ritual, but, no one notices
Except  the dcritic 

Accompanied by the beat of my heart
Acknowledging and reminding me
That only I can draw the curtain

Retire the part
Change the play

My critic says: “I’ll put you in touch with my son,
A fabulous agent, a miracle worker, I tell you.
He’ll show you how to reinvent yourself.
In fact, he specializes in Rebirth.”