Tried and true staples

The beveled tips drive deep into my skin.
The show must go on said the engineer to the stage hand.
My sense of worth faded into my side.
The light tilted slightly and the staged faded out of view.

This is not the way it started.
This is not the way it shall end.
I will not give you the right to form judgement from reason.
I will not let you have that audience.
I will not sing those words.

The beveled tips dig deep into my whims.
A Spring rose from the ashes of the playwright's submission.
I carved my sense of right and wrong into your skin.
The morning jilted me of the night and the stage burned to the ground.

This is not the story of any one person.
This is not the song of our ancestors.
This leaves me bleeding in my cave
And this takes from me your smile, your person.
I will let go now, I will let go.
I will let go now, I will let go.
I will.