The Broadway lights are burning all around

City centre. Lit up.

Try not to make a sound

Backstage. Tonight

Those great dress-ups must commence:

Start. Games of life and time,

And visitors with words so strict

Won’t waste a dime. Director

Like a god surveys.

He calls, they listen; scenario re-enact;

Textbook words turned upside-down,

And Shakespeare’s eyes would ne’er have seen

The profiles, stories, objects created of gene,

Followers walk in step

Forward. To see the same refrain

As before. Always together, esse volobant in mediam,

But do they find the characters who lead

The stage; but far away, not close and in perform?

Do they identify, under the clown-lines,

And frocks, the dressage that has been made?

The End

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