Master of Pretend

By: Wicked Posted on: March 26, 2006

A thousand tragedies and triumphs etched upon his face
Matte colours delicately applied to the white base

Bright, magnificent clothing worn with age
The isle of Delos is this man's stage

Although nameless, to honour and chivalry he abides
From his formidable foes he never hides

The elusive quarry he may or may not catch
He doesn't seem to mind that he's been outmatch'd

His shrinking box he will always dramatise
The narrow escape is his surprise!

A few gold sovereigns in his palm
Is worth a trick or two, no qualms

With a bow and a wink, he's on his way
Pulling himself along to another day

An entertainer and quiet friend
Is the Master of Pretend