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SHOW TIME - Mr. MUELLER, YOU'RE FIRED Come life and death of it you blessed rhapsody you've played for long enough and now it's time to go there's not a better time than now to let it be insanity's its own and best reward you know deep in the night while there's no certain thing but passion for the grief that lingers on and on as damp and cold as fog as hot as summers sting come life and death of it before this act is gone there must be question to the ends uncertainty that's led us guessing, why was this thing said and is the act onstage or what the actors see beyond the blinding light among the walking dead who come to be amused right through our greatest fear of no applause; or laughter where there should be none and we must speak each word for everyone to hear exactly as they plan so that the show goes on. and yes they knew the end before the curtain call but made production's costs a thing to bear and every star that's in the sky could surely fall from how it shines tonnight unless the fire is there they cannot see the moving of the props around sometimes in pandemonium, at best in haste nor setting of the stage--this is our holy ground the tinting of each face the tightening of waist there no one dares to tread except for those who see the detail of it all must blend into the play as carefully as we make this, our tragedy, the making up must be complete in every way we must not let the ending go beyond the end or all is lost and all we'll hear is mumbelings and lack of press where there has never been a friend so life and death of it come down though pain it brings let not the curtain to ascend the play is done and weary are the actors they've performed quite well as real as life so now the show must not go on past curtain fall there's nothing more we have to tell. NO Collusion. © Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet aka Ron Wilson
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