Under the glaring spotlights
On top of the wooden stage
In front of the heavy velvet curtain
The actor becomes the sage.
He wears all the costumes
He plays all the parts
He invokes all his lines
He knows them all by heart.
But now he has come to the end
He had played his last show
And taken his final bow
Only thing left to do is go.
One last curtain call
One last look around
One last deep breath
Before the echoing silence comes down.
He exits stage left
Through the side door
Onto the street
Where the actor, once cheered,
Now just blends into
The throngs of a million feet.
On top of the wooden stage
In front of the heavy velvet curtain
The actor becomes the sage.
He wears all the costumes
He plays all the parts
He invokes all his lines
He knows them all by heart.
But now he has come to the end
He had played his last show
And taken his final bow
Only thing left to do is go.
One last curtain call
One last look around
One last deep breath
Before the echoing silence comes down.
He exits stage left
Through the side door
Onto the street
Where the actor, once cheered,
Now just blends into
The throngs of a million feet.
Than his foot steeps stop short, by the ones they doth know, where he planted them in the cement, a long time ago.
ReplyDelete