Fine seperations

Ten speak and one listens,
One speaks we all listen.
Reels move as I watch
These fine seperations between us.

One cries, another consoles
One dies, the other grows old.
The mind weaves a colored net
Before it starts a second game.

Scars form though I never bled.
I scream, not a sound is heard.
Time moves, leaves Jill behind.
Let's roll the die again.