The Stage Is Empty
The stage is empty; the actors are gone;
scenery and props have been changed;
but, the life of the theater, continues on;
its schedule and markquee, rearranged.
Most actors of the last plays’s production;
have left, and gone down the road;
new ones come in; requiring introduction;
to help carry the theater’s load.
The theater’s not what it used to be;
I recall walking the stage in my youth;
others, now; where it used to be me;
stage productions, imitate truth.
All of the plays, we ever performed;
conceived; and, by the Author, writ;
closely imitated, and conformed,
words of the Author’s original script.
The final act, brought the house down
another of life’s acts, had ended;
the Author of all, accepted his crown;
as the curtain majestically descended.
The theater’s stage is empty, once more;
many actors, past; have left the stage;
new ones were born, the theater, restore;
as they walk out on stage, to engage.
The theater is what life’s book is about;
serious people, becoming the clown;
where the thoughts of all are acted out;
till death’s final curtain comes down.
Life is most stressful, for nearly one and all;
circumstances may lead to enragement.
You might never receive a curtain call;
but come back, for a return engagement.
Monty 1/25/22. # 947