What do you do when the music stops?,
And the sun no longer shines through the pane(pain?),
The thin eggshell of your existence POPS,
And instead of sunshine you’re touched by the
rain.
Reality lashes it’s long sharp tongue,
As naked you stand...You can no longer hide,
Searching for friends to stand among,
Just to have that tongue shove you aside.
There’s no hiding behind your youth anymore,
For youth, like yon eggshell , teeters and drops...
Like Humpty Dumpty -- impossible
to restore!
What do you do when the music stops?

Nice poem .

You are very kind.

Dance out of the eggshell, into the new you. Recreate yourself.
Great poem, I related to it well.