Some people like to be noticed
Others like to blend
To hide in anonymity
Forever till the end
Some, they like the small roles
Some, the spotlight, crave
An audience required
A validating gaze
Introvert or extrovert
The answers never clear
A cocktail, six parts courage
An elixir, six parts fear
A beverage to be consumed
Why else would it be named?
A mixed up bright umbrella plumed
For the right one, to be claimed
For the thunderstorms, light showers
To draw some sun, or guard a gaze
Different roles for different hours
A multitude of ways
A menu that we’re all on
The choice, it is not yours
A bar tab that we all run
Counting alcoholic scores
‘midst skewered fruit and olives
To compliment the parts
The mixtures and the make up
The measures of our hearts
With umbrellas out in line
Four seasons in one day
I hope you find your usual shine
… and tipples run both ways
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