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‘Scuse my silence, I’m just

Over here dealin’

With a little heartbreak

Nothing that’ll kill me

But enough to knock

The words from my mouth

And the sonnets from my sight

Keep writing what I think

Happened, knowing it wasn’t

Like that, not entirely

Got a lot to say but

Nowhere to put it; the

Ninth act deleted

Before it began

Curtains drawn, no

Final bows allowed

I fear now, all along my

Interpretation was off

Making more plot than

The playwright conceived

My performance gaudy

Overdrawn and naught

But bothersome to

Other players, time wasting

And over-sharing barging

Through unwritten scenes

Now sitting in the wings, the

Show’s over, the run’s complete

Time to repaint the backdrops

And move on then, is it?

Hard to forget, don’t really want to

Greasepaint and glitter stubbornly

Linger, a constant reminder

Ever fainter, of shows past

Perhaps never to play again

~ Svasti