Crave To Fame
Sparks fly through the humid air
gloves slip off the hands to bare
the thinning skin of compromise
to match the fear in shallow eyes
Midnight heavy on the hearts
of actors playing their life's part
while even their shadows shrink from them
and they lose the last of waning friends
Pools of "sorrys" hang like dew
off ears of loved ones, far and few
Turning toward the selfish course
by will, by might, but not by force
They heave on toward the last hurrah
and drag their bones like a crackling shawl
to beat the band, to seal their fate
to make for fame, but it's too late.
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