Memories, bearing the weight of ages,
Bringing forth grief untold,
Hidden behind masks and stages,
Lost in the players' fold.

The script is written by unseen hand,
And parts assigned by lot:
Given a role in this travelling band
Caught up, unable to stop.

And when this show doth finally close,
The curtains drop to the floor,
The players all return to their homes,
Bearing their parts no more.

Yet those with no place to return
Stay with the playwright,
Waiting for the next coming turn,
The next part of their life.