The Manuscript
He could see it on his coffee table
It seemed to have called to him
In a haunting voice, beckoning,
Seducing him with fame, treasures
He had wanted to turn away
As he swore he would never do it
Again, having already gotten out
Yet, his needs were strong
As he proved to be a weak man
So unlike what he was perceived
To as being. He walked to it,
With a trembling hand, picked it up
And proceeded to change his life’s plan,
But that is what an actor does.
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