Maybe

Smile, my friend, behind your gray mustache. The parts you play on the stage might be as real for you as they are for me. Maybe you can tell me what to think as naturally as you charm me with your lines. Maybe children in our homeland will take heart and hold their tears. My thoughts are suffering children dreaming that prayers will be answered. Maybe their winter will not last. Maybe our country is not a wasteland. Tell me whether to pray or mourn.