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Frank and RiTa
" I listen to poetry and music and then I can live,
You see darling, the rest of the time it's just me, and it's not enough."
Rita has wanted to sing a better song, better than the one she'd been singing her whole life long.
Frank had sat amongst his books and talked about those dead old poets.
Rita believed that some other culture would make her better, not talking crap and drinking beer.
Frank wanted to be free, to live, lust, think and feel. Breathe.
Like chalk and cheese the two first seemed.
An ocean of difference set them apart.
The expanse could have been class and culture,
The scouser hairdresser and the scholarly fart.
Yet what it was
Was not as it appeared.
Frank's bottles hid behind the many books but never quenched his thirst.
Rita craved to learn, to change, to grow.
Each as if gazing into some magic mirror
could see some missing place,
Within the others face.
Rita did change, she learnt, she grew.
She also changed her friends, her name, her clothes, her shoes.
Frank despaired at what she'd lost,
Rita angered as he drank, wasting all he'd got.
His drunken words filled the room,
Echoed around the hall.
"Poetry, literature!
What does it benefit a man if he gaineth literatuuure but loseth his soul?"
It all turned out well you know, the tale of frank and Rita.
Like chalk and cheese they may have seemed,
But there was so much more to tell.
Perceptions of each other, mixed and muddled,
Misunderstood.
That mirror just an image.
It was their friendship that took them to their missing places,
Helped them know that poetry, music and worth
Could be found in some plain old mirror and in their very own faces.
"I listen to poetry and music and then I can live,
You see darling, the rest of the time it's just me, and it's not enough."
_________________
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts...
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