Six Degrees of Separation

I see the figures standing
As if in silhouette
Then the spotlight turns to shine on them
And the scene has now been set

They pull their chairs around me
And say “ To put you at your ease
We are three professionals
With between us, six degrees
There’s nothing you can tell us
That we don’t already know
So make yourself feel comfortable
And we’ll begin the show “

Their scripts to me seem well rehearsed
And each plays their part well
I see no trace of stage fright
No first night nerves to quell
I am a patient audience
I don’t want to make a fuss
But it’s obvious that six degrees
Have separated us

The director of the scene
Sees I’m in need of some cajoling
Says “ You’ll get to have your say
Once the cameras stop rolling”

Don’t know what I expected
I should have seen the warning signs
When they cast me as a walk-on part
An extra with no lines
I could have been their expert witness
And now I know I’m sounding riled
But, believe me, I am qualified to talk
About this child

I’ve completed all my coursework
I’ve studied night and day
At the School for Desperate Mothers
And I’ve got lots to say
But they are deaf to my opinions
And blind to what I see
They’re disabled by indifference
And intolerant of me

All too soon the lights go up
As the  curtain starts to fall
On another great performance
Which has left me feeling small
So read this poem as a letter
Marked  “ To Whom It May Concern”
Then use as a reminder
That you still have much to learn

© Irene Ewen  21/11/09