The Projectionist: Silver Screen Flirtation

The screens are shabby
From all these beaming lights
A ticking roll of film
Behind a cardboard box
No ticking clocks
A golden ticket to neverland
Or so they say
Crunching popcorn,
Sipping drinks until they slur
And every night the magic is unleashed
Rays of light dancing in a room
Glowing dust drifting in the air
A mental space for silent reverie
Where sobs and laughter echo off the walls
They go and come but I am here to stay
To witness all these stories every night
To go back home and face my meager days
Across the fringe of disconnected worlds
Evading all this bland reality
On silver screens the untold stories told
And with them all our lives seem to unfold
Our days a measure of this grand affair
To love, to live, to roam the world
To cry, to lose, to die in pain
To dream, to win it all
But life is not so grandiose
I punch a ticket with a hole
I change the rolls of films
And with it all my dreams
Projected on an ageing wall
Waiting for a magic carpet ride
To take me far away

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Character: 82/100 (We’re getting closer! Awaiting the second phase of Bohemiaspeaks!)