You Were By Far Too Good For That

It was never meant to be a compliment;
it is too late to take it back and state it in
another way. The fact I even bothered to

be honest leaves me in a sorry plight; call
me trite, inconsequential, corny if you like –
I’d even say I’m sorry if I thought

it might explain. But there you are – a name
upon a billboard in the centre scene, fame
surrounds you – open notoriety whereas I

still cling to shadows at your feet. Beneath
the candour of the foot lights is a street of
dreams – you chose the road to fame, your

share of winnings we received, an adulation
rare for novice players as we were but as a
pair we took the boards by storm. When the

rain of pure applause receded I was scared
to venture out again. I’ve hidden here beside
the throne while you endure. The pain is less

than that before, more a blessing now I know
the cause. You live in constant fear of losing
your appeal while I conceal the truly real and

cogent facts; we never were associates of
equal status on the stage, the reason’s plain,
you were by far too good for that.
© 9 July 2007, I.D. Carswell