Troubled

I tried, I failed
I stood, I flailed
I attempted my task,
took center stage,
sat on that bench as they asked.
It fell, my fault they claimed
I tried again and the result was the same.
Today I’ll try again. With a stool.
I’m no fool if it falls it’s me not them
But I’m not using that damn bench again

The stage goes quiet, the set is lit.
Across the stage is where I must sit.
And as I enter in the room,
My heart beats loudly in this tomb.
I approach from behind.
It cannot see me, the stool is blind
At least I hope this is the case…
Even so, I mark my pace.
10 steps away
5, now 3
Hope does fill me, it’s a possibility
The bench’s fault, not mine indeed!
I am set up to just succeed.

Two steps away I stand
It’s going far better than I planned
Then someone coughs, and I breathe out…
Stupid, stupid, I want to shout.
Collapsing forlorn upon the floor,
The stool is standing no more.
Nor am I, I’ve given up
What fool am I to drink Hope’s Cup.
I cannot perform in a play
If without cajoling the props won’t stay.