The End Approaches, My Dear!
The sound dies...
The cheers stop...
The finish of the cries...
The curtains chop...
***
The Theatre, my dear, is a poisoned chalice
Created for profit and sodomised malice
The intentions meant are an entire mess
Nothing more, nothing less
***
The Theatre, my dear, is full of characters
Brecht, Artaud and Shakespearean actors
Those wonderful chaps whom give us the pleasure
From Hamlet, Macbeth to Measure for Measure
***
The lights fade...
The audience gone...
The staff paid...
'Over is the con...
***
One dried-up Actor remains and makes His entrance
His eyes are glazed, fixed and old
A booming voice lifts up the room
Richard the Third's soliloquy booms
***
"Since I cannot prove a lover, I am determin'd to prove a villian"
***
The End approaches, my dear.
The last Curtain Call...
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
The End Approaches, My Dear!, which
was posted on Dec 7, 2010 by
DanielMcLaughlin-TheFool.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"This is my first attempt at a serious poem and I felt I must explore the theatre..."
This poem is filed under:
Free Verse
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