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Poem

Pull the curtain open
Butterflies in your stomach with ibuprofen
The stage is set and the cameras are running
And critics are spread out in the back with looks that aren't so stunning...
I'm in the balcony wondering, "What's the plot?"
This reminds me of the day that Lincoln got shot...
The characters are puppets with too tight of pants
The master pulls the strings and the puppets dance
Puppets that sin and worship the devil
All of a sudden theater has been taken to a-whole-nother level...
Wow, what a magnificent scene, it left all the audience stunned
I'm still sweating from anticipation of Lincoln getting gunned...
But anticipation is over, blood is spread out all over the stage
The bystanders panic and shout wildly in rage
But meanwhile, the show is over...the characters bow while the theater is being hosed
Pull the curtain closed

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