Comfy Seats

There's a guy going around selling tickets.                
       
I'm not sure why anyone would want the                  
front row comfy seats when it's all rather                
uncomfortable to watch close up.                
                 
All the hot discussions and heated debates          
about loves trials and tribulations, To be          
played out with guilty looks, Not knowing          
whether to laugh out loud or quietly smile          
in secret with the whispering tell tale signs          
of quick glances and even flirtier desires.                
                 
To unravel and decipher in this tomb filled                
void of antimatter as we try and find what                
really matters in this reactor of even keels                
and unstable vessels.                
                 
As we sink and swim with every reaction of        
kneejerk responses we leave behind,        
Unanswered in our questioning wake.                
                 
To finally find some common ground beneath                
our tired feet.    
To talk in foreign tongues no more    
is the desire we sleep and dream for.                
                 
There's a guy going around selling tickets.  
Now that's a comforting thought.