The world is not your friend

Confessions of a Doctor to be

It watches, a silent stage

The curtain rises on your fateful day,

No claps, no sighs, no words of praise

The world gives nothing but your days.


You trip, you fall, you scrape your knee,

It watches, whispers but does not weep.

For doors stay closed unless you turn

Those gold brass handles you always yearn.


No expectations of joy or loss,

No lines, no songs nor timely prompts

You write your scenes and cast your play

The world has no part and nothing left to say.


Neither friend and neither foe but

A wooden floor you scratch with your toe.

Leave your mark and wonder how

The world drops its curtains as you take your bow.

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Published by NickAlbano23

This blog came into existence because I finally got back into writing again. I wanted an outlet to write what was on my heart. I hope you enjoy my work! Contact info- Email:

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