Published on October 10, 2005 By Death_By_Beebles In Poetry
It's clear to me as I watch this play
watch the actors droop across
an almost to clean stage
It's clear to me as I see them sing
and dance and play their worn out songs
up and down vocals and chords
It's clear to me as the curtains drop
that these people, these men and women
as good as they may be
They do not matter in this play
They are one memory away from extinction
but the art they make, the story they weave
makes all the difference in the world.

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